


Unforgivable

by aebbe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationships, Dark Magic, Drama, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Secrets, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Lots of plot, Next Generation, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, POV Multiple, Plot, although let's be honest it's at least half drama and shenanigans, and ridiculous teenagers being ridiculous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aebbe/pseuds/aebbe
Summary: 2022. The war is over, the world remade.When a Muggle schoolgirl is attacked with the Imperius Curse, Harry finds himself hunting not a single rogue magic-user but a mass of conspiracies, with the Malfoy family of the centre of them.  Meanwhile old rivalries are stirred up at Hogwarts when the first Malfoy for generations is sorted into Gryffindor.The war is over, the world remade. But old grudges run deep, divides are at best patched over, and some actions of the past may just be unforgivable.Updates roughly once a week, but no promises.
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter & James Sirius Potter & Lily Luna Potter, James Sirius Potter & Scorpius Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy & Lily Luna Potter
Comments: 45
Kudos: 24





	1. Cuckoo in the Nest

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was born many years ago over on ffn, where it's finished (under a different name). i'm finally getting around to putting it here, with some serious rewriting, since my ideas and my storytelling have come a long way since then. 
> 
> this is part of a series, of which there are several other parts also complete on ffn (and a couple of WIPs), but it stands alone as a multi-chap story. i'll be bringing the others over in due time.
> 
> on the offchance that anyone finds this having read the old version on ffn, the basic storyline, characters and relationships remain the same, and should be entirely recognisable. only one or two major changes have been made - the odd character name, some world-building details, and a few small elements that (since this was originally the first story i wrote in this universe) tie it in better to my other stories.
> 
> there are not many warnings to be put on this fic. there's nothing particularly graphic in it, just a whole lot of drama and a bunch of teenage nonsense. specific warnings will be put on individual chapters, but it never gets worse than underage drinking, some sexual references, mild (mostly magical) violence and some on-page injury. pairings to be revealed, but romance is in the background - you'd have to stick with the series to find more serious romance in the future!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected Sorting creates waves.

It seemed to take longer than usual for the first-years to arrive from their crossing of the lake. It might have been the weather, windy and spitting rain, but it might also have been that this year Scorpius was waiting for them with a little bit of anxiety.

He glanced at the doors of the Great Hall, but they remained firmly closed. Overhead, dense clouds moved across the enchanted ceiling, just as they did across the sky outside. The hall, though, was warm and still, filled with a buzz of chatter and laughter. She’d be okay, of course. The kids were well-looked after in the boats.

‘Scorp?’ a voice said beside him.

He blinked. Calypso Zabini, sitting on his right, was looking at him, dark eyebrows tilted upwards, expectant. She’d been talking, and he hadn’t been listening.

‘Sorry. What did you say?’

‘I only said, I wonder when they’ll be starting Apparition lessons. We’ll all be able to take them.’

‘Oh. Yeah,’ he agreed, glancing at the door again. ‘I dunno.’

A small ball of parchment bounced off his cheek, and he glared across the table at Dannicus Urquhart, who’d thrown it and was now grinning at him.

‘His head’s in the clouds,’ Dannicus told Calypso. ‘Missing your girlfriend back home already, Scorp?’

That couldn’t go unanswered, and Scorpius picked up the parchment and threw it back.

‘She’s not my girlfriend, dick,’ he said, almost reflexively, since he couldn’t count the number of times they’d had the argument.

Calypso, though, looked at him with slightly puzzled sympathy.

‘Is it Iseult? Are you worried about her?’

 _Was_ he? ‘No, not really. Not worried. She’ll be fine, whatever happens.’

Calypso leaned her elbows on the table, her forehead furrowing. ‘Yeah, she will. But what d’you think’s going to happen?’

Scorpius shrugged. ‘I don’t know. That’s the issue.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Danny said. ‘I mean, name the last time a Malfoy didn’t end up in Slytherin! She’s bound to be here, and then you can keep an eye on her as much as you want.’

Scorpius said nothing. Danny was probably right—definitely right about the first part, because Scorpius couldn’t begin to name the last Malfoy to have been sorted into any other house. If it had ever happened, it had been carefully erased from family memory. But, thinking about his little sister, the little nagging doubt wouldn’t go away.

‘Hey, Urquhart,’ a new voice said, and all three of them looked up at the tall, rangy boy with brown hair carefully styled away from his face, who came and rested one knee on the bench beside Danny, glanced briefly across at Scorpius and Calypso, and then back again.

‘Er. Hey, Nott’ Danny said, a guarded tone in his voice.

Behind Searle Nott, as usual, were Darius Avery and Martin Selwyn. All of them Scorpius and Danny’s dormmates, but not, as far as Scorpius was concerned, particular friends.

‘Heard your mum and dad have joined,’ Searle said, his voice low, offering Danny his fist.

Danny glanced at it, but didn’t move his own hand.

‘Joined what?’ Calypso broke in.

Scorpius suspected he knew the answer, and he suspected that Calypso did too, given the expressions flickering across Danny’s face.

Searle narrowed his eyes at Danny, withdrawing the offered fist, then looked at Calypso.

‘Didn’t think I was talking to you, Zabini.’

Calypso’s lip curled, but before she could answer, the vast doors to the hall swung open with a loud crash and a blast of colder air, and Professor Clearwater, the Deputy Headmistress, stood there with a crowd of damp, bedraggled first-years trailing behind her.

The chatter in the hall rose to a crescendo, then died away as Clearwater led the way between the tables and swept up to the high table.

Searle Nott stood up straight again. ‘Catch you later, then, Urquhart,’ he said.

‘Right. Sure,’ Danny agreed, with a sideways look across the table at Scorpius and Calypso as Nott and his friends wandered away to some free seats further up.

‘Settle down, please!’ Professor Clearwater called from the front of the hall. ‘Please take your seats! Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone, for the start of this new year…’

Her voice went on, but Calypso leaned across the table.

‘What the hell was that about?’ she hissed.

‘Nothing.’ Danny didn’t meet their eyes, his gaze scanning the hall instead. ‘Hey, Scorp, there’s your sister.’

Scorpius had spotted her. Tiny and skinny, the wetness of her hair making it even darker than usual against her pale little face, matching the black of her new robes. Her eyes were running along the Slytherin table, and they fell on him, her nervous expression lifting into a grin. He returned the smile, and she gave him a small, excited wave.

Then Clearwater announced the beginning of the Sorting, and Iseult’s attention immediately transferred to the front of the hall and the battered old Sorting Hat on its chair.

Scorpius looked back at Danny. There were plenty of names before Clearwater reached Malfoy.

‘Dan. Have your mum and dad joined the League?’

Danny hunched into his seat, his sandy curls falling over his eyes as he looked down at the table. Everyone around them burst into sudden applause as ‘Avery, Lilith’—some young relative of Darius, Scorpius assumed—became the first new Slytherin of the year. The three of them joined in for a few moments, and Scorpius saw a small girl with long, immaculate blonde hair join the far end of the table.

‘Yeah, I guess so,’ Danny muttered as the applause died away and Clearwater read out the next name, then glanced up at them. ‘That doesn’t mean – I’m not suddenly best mates with Searle Nott. I don’t even know what that was.’

Scorpius and Calypso looked at each other, and Scorpius felt a coldness creep over him. Not because he doubted Danny or their friendship, but because it felt as if the League had been casting a longer and longer shadow over their lives over the past year. _The League of Magic_ , they called it, a bland, innocuous name for what was just a small political party. But it wasn’t bland or innocuous—and it was growing.

‘They tried to get my dad too,’ Calypso said in a low voice. ‘Back at the start of the summer. He won’t touch politics, though—too much of a _businessman_.’

She and Danny both looked at Scorpius, who sighed. He hadn’t told them about last year—hadn’t wanted to talk about the way it was tying his family into knots. It hadn’t occurred to him that maybe it would affect them too—the Zabinis and the Urquharts, after all, while still old pureblood families, weren’t quite part of the same circle the Malfoys and the Notts had always occupied. _Sacred 28_. The phrase was almost creepy, although not as bad as the other one that tied Malfoys and Notts together—the one none of them chose to talk about.

‘Yeah, Theo Nott came after my dad ages ago,’ he said, with a glance down at Searle, who was sprawled out on a bench, laughing at something. ‘I think he just assumed Dad’d want in. It was—weird.’

Last Christmas, Dad had been constantly on edge. Not talking to any of them, not even to Mum—disappearing into the back room they called the study to have long Floo conversations with people, going out by himself and coming back late. Scorpius had hardly known what to think, and when he’d tried to talk to Mum, she’d brushed him off and told him not to worry, as if he was Issie’s age. He’d known Mum was worrying too, though—it was in the shadows under her eyes and the new lines in her forehead and the way she sometimes just paused in what she was doing to stare off into the distance.

And the trouble was that, although it was supposedly over and everything was meant to be okay again—Dad had stopped seeing Theo Nott, had turned down all his proposals, had even made a rare public statement to the _Prophet_ that he had no intention of joining the League—none of those things had really gone away.

‘Well, I thought they must have had a go, when your dad said that to the papers,’ Calypso said. ‘I guess when they couldn’t get the really big names, they started trying the rest of us.’

‘Yeah, well, quite a lot of people have joined,’ Danny said. ‘The Flints, the Montagues, the Averys—some of them anyway. And a bunch more.’

‘What do they even want?’ Calypso wondered. ‘I mean, they want to be a political party, but who’s going to vote for them? Not like purebloods are exactly a majority.’

‘I don’t know,’ Danny said, looking unhappy. ‘But I know why my parents have joined. They think we’re losing our _pureblood culture_. Fuck if I know what that’s even meant to mean, but they’re all stuck on this idea of the good old days, how it used to be before some halfblood Dark Lord came along and screwed it all up. They’re even talking about a new Pureblood Directory—you know, the real purebloods, who stick to the traditions. No Weasleys or Longbottoms this time.’

‘Talking of Longbottoms,’ Calypso said, indicating the small, plump girl with two fair plaits now at the front of the queue of first-years. ‘Isn’t that Professor Longbottom’s kid?’

Sure enough, Professor Clearwater called out, ‘Longbottom, Sophie!’

There was a hush in the hall, as there always was when a famous name was about to be sorted. The little girl scurried forwards, her face pink as she turned around to sit down and put the hat on. Up at the high table, Scorpius saw Professor Longbottom—Herbology professor and Head of Gryffindor—lean forwards, smiling.

‘GRYFFINDOR!’ the Sorting Hat called, a minute later, and the Gryffindor table erupted into applause.

‘No surprise there,’ Calypso said, over the noise, rolling her eyes.

‘Well, her brother’s in Ravenclaw,’ Scorpius pointed out, his own slight worry rising again. ‘People aren’t always in the same house as their family.’

She shot him a look, but before she could reply, Professor Clearwater went on.

‘Malfoy, Iseult.’

Issie somehow looked extra tiny as she walked carefully forwards. The hall had gone quiet again. She sat down, her eyes seeking him out, and Scorpius managed to summon an encouraging grin from somewhere as she pulled the hat onto her head.

It took a little longer than it had for Sophie Longbottom. Scorpius found that he was gripping the table tightly, trying to read what was happening from the expression on Issie’s face, but he was too far away really, even if he’d have been able to tell.

Then: ‘GRYFFINDOR!’ the hat shouted again.

For a reeling moment, the word didn’t make sense to Scorpius. Had the Hat really said it, or had it only happened in his head, that little doubt suddenly turning into a pictured scene? The hall was still silent; you could have heard a ghost’s footsteps. But he hadn’t imagined it. Slowly, Issie took the hat from her head and stood up. Even Professor Clearwater seemed momentarily shocked as she took the hat back. Issie looked back at Scorpius, but the smile had fallen off his face and he couldn’t retrieve it.

Then, from the high table, a single pair of hands began to clap. Scorpius’ gaze swung that way and saw Professor Longbottom, the new Head of Gryffindor, a man his father openly despised, applauding enthusiastically, as if he hadn’t noticed everyone else in the hall staring as if they’d been Stunned.

It broke the spell. The other teachers joined in, and then the Gryffindor table too, although not quite as loud and vigorous as it had been for Sophie Longbottom. Scarlet-faced, Issie hurried for her new table, disappearing among the red and gold.

Scorpius discovered that both Calypso and Danny were staring at him.

‘Well, guess you were right,’ Danny said, after a pause. ‘Not everyone ends up in the same house as their family.’

‘You okay, Scorp?’ Calypso asked quietly.

Scorpius shook his head, more to clear it than in answer.

‘Yeah,’ he said, hearing his voice as if it wasn’t quite his own. ‘Course. I’m just…’

He’d let her down, that was his first coherent thought. She’d been up there, everyone staring at her, nobody clapping, and she’d looked at Scorpius for some sort of help. And he hadn’t given it to her, he’d just stared, along with everyone else.

And now she was at the far side of the hall, in among all the golden Gryffindors with their loud voices and their over-confidence and their sideways glances at people like him, and he couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t look out for her, as he’d promised he would, as he’d promised his parents he would. Gryffindor would eat his baby sister alive.

*

Iseult trailed at the back of the line of new Gryffindor first-years, hurrying to keep up with the fast pace of Fenella Belby, the Head Girl. People were staring and whispering at her, and her heart was still hammering with the momentousness of what had happened.

The Sorting Hat hadn’t even wanted to listen to her half-hearted mental protests. It had almost laughed at her instant thought— _I can’t belong in Gryffindor_. But she couldn’t. She didn’t. It was obvious. Of all the string of names that had been sorted into Gryffindor on either side of her—Bell, Longbottom, Nelson, Punton, Robins, some familiar and some completely strange to her—not a single one was from the pureblood circles her parents still moved on the edge of. Almost everyone Issie knew was or had been in Slytherin.

‘Hey!’ A boy with curly black hair and a wide, friendly smile fell back into step with her. ‘What’s your name? I’m Jake Nelson.’

Issie looked up, a little startled. He was taller than her, but then, most people were.

‘Um. I’m Iseult.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Iseult Malfoy.’

His smile didn’t waver, and there was no flicker of recognition. ‘Are your mum and dad a… a witch and wizard, then?’

Oh. Something clicked. He was a Muggleborn. Issie gazed curiously at him—she didn’t think she’d ever met one, although she wasn’t one of _those_ purebloods. She even knew a Muggle, back home.

‘Yes, they are,’ she told him, a little shyly.

A tall, pretty girl with long brown hair glanced over her shoulder and laughed, a tiny note of scorn in her voice.

‘No need to ask _her_ that,’ she said. ‘Not with her family.’

Jake’s face crinkled in puzzlement, and a girl with blonde pigtails also glanced around and seemed as if she was about to speak, but at that moment Fenella Belby came to a halt and spun around to face them, in front of a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. They all shuffled to a stop, their attention on the Head Girl.

‘This is the Fat Lady,’ Fenella said briskly. ‘The password is corncrake. It changes every week, and you’ll be notified of the new one by me or one of the prefects. Do not give the password out to anyone outside Gryffindor!’ She raised her voice as she said the last part, directing it straight at two second-years who came pushing past and in at the portrait hole, giving her unrepentant grins as they did so. ‘If you forget —or if you’ve got any other problems—you can come and talk to any of us at any time,’ Fenella went on, turning back to the first-years. ‘Now, come on. I’ll take you through and up to your dorms.’ She smiled warmly. ‘Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room!’

The room inside was big and comfortable-looking. Big armchairs were spread around, with low tables, the odd bookshelf, and a roaring fire at one side. The walls were wood-panelled, and the décor was all glowing red and gold. It would be cosy in the winter, Issie thought.

They all trooped through, no longer talking much, their eyes wandering over their new common room. Several groups of older students were already back, and stared curiously at them as they passed. Some of them smiled, and one of the two second-years who’d come past them waved. The girl with the blonde plaits waved back at him. She was a Longbottom, Issie remembered from the Sorting. She must know half the people in Gryffindor already.

The Longbottom girl, it turned out, was in the same dormitory as Issie, and so, unfortunately, was the unfriendly girl with the brown hair. The fourth was a girl with a mousy ponytail and a long fringe, who was only slightly taller than Issie. Issie’s things were by the second bed in, and to her relief, the unfriendly girl was in the fourth, over by the far wall, with fringe-girl in between them.

Issie made straight for the little cage sitting on top of her suitcase and opened it up. The half-grown black kitten that had been sleeping inside chirped a greeting and stretched, and Issie leant in and lifted her out. The kitten started purring loudly and immediately, and Issie cuddled her to her chest. At least she had one friend here.

‘Oh, a kitten! Cute!’

Issie looked up to find the Longbottom girl looking at her from where she was kneeling on the next bed, her shoes kicked off and discarded on the floor.

‘Is it a boy or a girl? What’s its name?’ the girl went on, then looked around the room. ‘I’m Sophie. What’re all your names?’

The brown-haired girl had opened up her suitcase but looked up.

‘I’m Antigone Bell.’ She looked curiously at Sophie Longbottom. ‘Your dad’s Head of Gryffindor, isn’t he? My Auntie Katie knows him.’

‘Is he?’ the fourth girl said, sounding slightly awed by this news. She looked a bit awed by everything, in fact, and was examining the curtains of her bed.

Sophie beamed. ‘Yes! He’s coming to the common room later, to talk to everyone, so you’ll meet him. Are you Muggleborn?’ she added curiously.

The girl nodded. ‘Yeah. My name’s Sam Punton. Well, it’s Samantha, but nobody calls me that.’

‘That’s so cool!’ Sophie said enthusiastically. ‘I love Muggle stuff. Have you seen any Disney films? My mum takes me to watch them at the cinema!’

Sam laughed. ‘Yeah, of course. Everyone has.’

Sophie giggled. ‘Not everyone here. Just wait and see.’ She looked over at Issie, who had kicked her own shoes off and sat down on her bed, back against the pillows, with her cat on her lap. ‘What did Professor Clearwater say your name was? I mean, I know your last name, obviously, but what’s your first name?’

‘Iseult,’ Issie said. ‘And… she’s a girl.’ She lifted up the kitten. ‘Her name’s Morgan.’

‘Oh, like Morgan le Fay?’ Sophie asked, her eyes wide.

‘No.’ Issie hesitated for a moment, but they were all looking at her and waiting. ‘Like Gwendolyn Morgan. She was captain of the Holyhead Harpies. She, um, she beat the Heidelberg Harriers in 1953, and then knocked out their captain with her broom when he asked her to marry him.’

There was a startled silence, then first Sam and then Sophie burst into giggles. Even Antigone smiled.

‘Oh, my Aunt Ginny would love that!’ Sophie said. ‘She used to be captain of the Holyhead Harpies too! She’s not really my aunt, she’s—’ She broke off. ‘You know who she is, right? D’you support the Harpies, then?’

Issie nodded, smiling a little. Maybe these girls weren’t so bad after all, even if Sophie really did know everyone. ‘Yeah. I know who she is, and I support them.’ She didn’t tell Sophie that she’d had a poster of Ginny Potter on her wall for a while, taken out of the Snidget Quidditch magazine. She hadn’t understood, aged eight, why her father sighed in an annoyed way every time he saw it.

‘Anyway, she’s adorable!’ Sophie bounced off her own bed and over to Issie’s. ‘Can I stroke her?’

‘Yes.’ Feeling grateful to Sophie for being friendly, Issie picked Morgan up and held her out. ‘You can hold her if you want.’

Sophie’s face lit up and she took the still-purring kitten and cuddled her close. Sam came over to join them and put out a hand to stroke Morgan’s head.

‘What are the Harpies?’ she asked. ‘Are they a sports team?’

By the time Issie and Sophie had spilled out an explanation of Quidditch and the various teams, even Antigone had unbent enough to contribute a few comments, although she still eyed Issie with what Issie felt was suspicion.

‘So, how come everyone went quiet when you were sorted?’ Sam asked Issie innocently in the end.

Issie froze. How did she explain? All the stuff from the war, stuff she barely understood herself. Stuff she couldn’t remember, but that nobody else seemed able to forget.

‘Because all Malfoys are in Slytherin.’ Antigone stood up, letting her suitcase fall shut. ‘And her dad was a Death Eater.’

Heat swept over Issie’s face. It was true, she knew it was true, but she knew almost nothing else about it. Dad didn’t talk about it. _Wouldn’t_ talk about it, Scorpius said. _Couldn’t_ , Mum had said once.

‘What’s a Death Eater?’ Sam asked, looking confused.

Nobody answered her, but Sophie turned her head to glare at Antigone.

‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘That isn’t her fault!’

Antigone met the glare with her own.

‘So, your mum and dad would be _just fine_ with you making friends with a Malfoy?’

Sophie set her jaw. ‘Yes, I think they will, actually. I think they’d prefer that to me being a meanie, anyway!’

Antigone screwed her nose up. ‘A _meanie?_ How old are you, six? Whatever,’ she went on, without waiting for a reply, ‘I’m getting changed.’

She pulled the curtains around her bed with a vigorous tug and was hidden from view. The other three sat in silence for a moment.

‘I… I don’t understand,’ Sam ventured, in the end.

Sophie shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She gave Issie a small smile. ‘Come on, let’s all get changed. We don’t need to wear robes in the evenings, and we’ll have to go down when my dad arrives.’

They followed her suggestion, but Issie, as she pulled off her robes and pulled on a pair of blue leggings and a grey sweatshirt—her grandmother had tried in vain to make her like wearing skirts and dresses—couldn’t help thinking that Antigone was right and Sophie was wrong. It did matter—how could it not matter? And soon she’d have to go downstairs and face the whole of Gryffindor House, who all probably thought like Antigone. Potters and Weasleys and all the other famous names.

She wished she was down in the Slytherin dormitories, even though she didn’t even like Eris Montague and Lilith Avery that much. At least Scorpius would be there. Up here, at the top of Gryffindor Tower, Issie had never felt so lonely.


	2. A Breach of the Statute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Issie finds friends and enemies at Hogwarts, and Scorpius gets unwelcome news from an old and unlikely friend.

Scorpius woke early. For a moment or two, he lay, looking up at the green canopy of his bed. It had taken him a long time to get to sleep the night before, too, but he was already thoroughly awake. He checked his watch, which was new, silver with black onyx inlays and his name engraved on it, a traditional gift for his seventeenth; his birthday was another two weeks away, but since he’d started Hogwarts, they’d got into the habit of just celebrating it early, on the last day of August. 

It was 6am. Breakfast wouldn’t even be available for another half hour. Scorpius had a prefects’ meeting at 8:15, which had seemed early when he’d been told about it the day before, but it was still more than two hours away.

He propped himself on his elbows and looked at the Glasschat sitting on his bedside table in its black case. They were the newest and best way to communicate with people in the Wizarding World, but Issie didn’t have one—his parents considered them modern nonsense, and while they hadn’t been able to stop Scorpius buying one for himself, they’d said that Issie was too young to start spending all her time on one. Now, though, that meant he had no way of contacting her.

He hesitated for a moment. The curtains were drawn around his bed, and the breathing of his dormmates told him that nobody else was awake. He left the Glasschat where it was, and instead removed the locking spell he’d put on the drawer of the table and pulled out the other communication device from where he’d shoved it the night before.

Most witches and wizards his age had Glasschats these days, but this was something different, and it wasn’t something he wanted questions asked about. He supposed that the Muggleborns must own them too, but he knew no Muggleborns in Slytherin, and anyway, they’d presumably come up against the same problem he’d had when he’d first tried it two years ago. Muggle devices just didn’t work in Hogwarts—that was what everyone said, and he’d found that it was true. The thing had switched on okay, but then there had been nothing but flashing lights on the screen, and it had gone black again.

It had taken Scorpius eighteen months of experiments with charms and spells, poring over books, both Muggle and magical, at night after his friends were all asleep, to find a way to make a Muggle mobile phone override its own attempts to connect to a Muggle signal, and to connect it instead to the magic that hummed through Hogwarts. It had taken him another three months to be able to charge it with magic instead of needing electricity. It still sometimes did things that surprised him, and he had not yet managed to connect it to the Muggle internet—something he found endlessly fascinating—but it worked for his purposes.

He opened up his messages. There was only one message thread there—only one person he ever contacted with it. He typed quickly.

_-you awake?_

She probably wouldn’t be. It was still only 6:15, and her school didn’t start until Monday. For her, this was the last Friday of the summer holidays. However, a few moments later, moving dots showed that she was typing.

The ghost of a smile crossed his face. She wasn’t his girlfriend, as he’d told Danny, it had never been like that at all, but he did miss her during the term. Danny and Calypso had been his life-lines at Hogwarts since first year, and they were great, but they couldn’t quite compare to the girl who’d been his best friend for ten years, the little Muggle girl from the park his mother had taken him to, who’d come up below him when he’d been frozen on the climbing frame and planted his feet on the right rungs. They’d come a long way since then.

**-guess i am now, what’s up**

Scorpius grinned apologetically, although she couldn’t see him.

_-sorry. did i wake you?_

**-kind of but it’s ok**

**-you ok?**

He wished he could call her, but that was impossible with the others sleeping a few feet away. A _Muffliato_ spell would only wake them, with the buzzing in their ears. And he could get up and find somewhere private, but his bed was warm, and he’d have to go and hide in some cold dungeon somewhere.

_-hey so weird thing, you know i told you about the whole house thing?_

**-right, and you’re in slithering or whatever**

_-slytherin. but yeah_

_-anyway issie got put in gryffindor_

He stared the second message after he’d sent it. Looking at it, typed there, made it real. The dots moved for several seconds before her reply appeared.

**-oh**

**-that’s a big deal, right?**

_Was_ it a big deal? Hazel had never really got why the houses mattered so much, and, when he looked at it through her eyes, it did seem stupid sometimes.

_-i don’t know, maybe. it’s just weird_

**-isn’t gryffindor where that guy is, the one who’s always been a dick to you? what’s his name? james potter**

**-he’s not gonna pick on her too is he?**

Scorpius sighed. James Potter ranked high on the list of most unpleasant things to reside at Hogwarts, somewhere below the Giant Squid but above the colony of blast-ended skrewts at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was, he had to admit to himself, slightly possible that Hazel had heard a somewhat one-sided version of his interactions with Potter, but still. Not like Scorpius had ever actually started things.

Would he pick on Issie? Scorpius couldn’t really believe that even Potter would target a first-year, whatever her surname was. But the trouble was that James Potter embodied everything that was Gryffindor House—loud and arrogant and popular, son of a hero, apparently convinced that he could do or say anything and get away with it. Which apparently he could—Potter seemed to be almost constantly breaking rules, but, as far as Scorpius knew, had never got more than detention for it. And there were other people, much closer in age to Issie, who thought and acted the same sort of way.

_-probably not, but other people might_

_-it’s the whole family thing, you know, and the war. my family have always been in slytherin, and half of gryffindor are kids of war heroes_

_-idk how dad’s going to react_

Dad wouldn’t really mind—would he? Slytherin had always meant a lot to him, much more than to Mum. But he wouldn’t let that affect Issie, right? If there was one thing that had been drilled into all of them, it was that family was family, no matter what. Even when your grandparents were at their most annoying.

Grandparents were a whole other issue.

Hazel’s answer came back:

**-have you asked her how she feels about it**

_-not yet, i couldn’t, guess i’ll see her at breakfast_

**-well at least ask her before you make up your mind it’s all terrible!**

**-anyway isn’t slytherin meant to be the house of cunning and self-preservation or something**

Scorpius rolled his eyes at her description, although those were definitely two of the traits people talked about Slytherins possessing. She had, he was fairly sure, actually read the copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ that he'd got her for her birthday a couple of years ago, when she kept asking questions he didn't know the answers to, because these days she quite often came out with things he didn't think he'd told her himself. He supposed he had the second trait, though; he wasn’t so sure about the first. He sent a laughing emoji back, and added:

_-yeah I guess, in theory_

**-and you were seriously expecting issie to end up there?**

He frowned. Well, no, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Deep down, he’d known Issie wasn’t a Slytherin—he’d just been unable to imagine her anywhere else. Still was unable. However, Hazel was still typing.

**-scorpius, this is the kid who threw herself onto the highest ramp at the skate park when I gave her my old roller blades, not sure self-preservation’s really her thing**

A smile tugged at Scorpius’s mouth at the memory, although it hadn’t been funny at the time, three years ago. Issie had ended up with badly skinned elbows and knees and a cut in her chin, and he’d been in trouble for taking her there and letting her do it. As if he’d have been able to stop her. Which was the point Hazel was making, really, wasn’t it? Merlin, had Issie somehow grown into some kind of classic Gryffindor, and he hadn’t noticed because he’d been too busy judging the whole house for being loud and obnoxious?

Actually, that was more possible than he really wanted to think.

_-i guess_

_-she definitely knows how to make a sensation anyway_

And maybe that was the difference between him and his sister. All he’d ever wanted to do was keep his head far enough down that nobody would notice him. It hadn’t worked very well—his Malfoy name, his Malfoy face, those had all drawn people’s attention, usually the exact type of attention he was trying to avoid. But Issie—Issie might be scared sometimes, but she never let that _stop_ her.

He scanned the Gryffindor table as he entered the Great Hall an hour or so later. Hazel had gone back to sleep in the end, and Scorpius had played around with the phone, trying to work out what he could do with it. He felt that, somehow, if he could find the right charms to unlock it, magic ought to make _more_ things possible with it, rather than fewer. Hazel had shown him how the internet worked, and the possibilities seemed endless, except that whatever electrical signals made it happen seemed to just die as soon as they were surrounded by too much magic. He didn’t want to risk breaking the phone, but after all, he had made it work in one way—why shouldn’t he be able to make it work in others?

Eventually the others had started to stir, so he had tucked his phone back into the drawer, locked it, and got ready to go for breakfast. Calypso was waiting for him and Danny in the common room, and they went along together.

He spotted Issie eventually, sitting at the side of the table furthest away from him, between Professor Longbottom’s little girl and a boy he didn’t recognise at all. She didn’t look too unhappy and seemed to be listening, as the Longbottom kid talked. Scorpius hesitated, glancing at the other people at the Gryffindor table. Breakfast tended to be a meal where people just sat down in any seat that was spare, some people just grabbing a coffee and leaving again, while others liked to take their time, so there were always groups of people coming and going, and seats opening up.

Right now, sitting almost directly opposite Issie, he could see a smooth head of bright red hair that could only belong to Lily Potter, James Potter’s sister. James himself was further up the table, sitting with Fenella Belby, the Head Girl, and Louis Weasley, Potter’s cousin, who was rarely far away from him. The Carson twins were there too. Fenella had been more or less alright with Scorpius since he’d been made a prefect last year, but the others were people he preferred to avoid. If any of them spotted a Slytherin near their table, they wouldn’t ignore it, he knew they wouldn’t. To be fair, he probably wouldn’t be able to ignore a Gryffindor near his either, at least not one of those particular Gryffindors.

But he did need to see Issie, and he only had limited time before his prefects’ meeting.

‘What’s the matter?’ Calypso asked from beside him, then followed his eyes. ‘Oh. Well, she _looks_ alright, doesn’t she?’

‘I need to talk to her,’ Scorpius said.

Danny, who had not immediately noticed that they had stopped and was a few steps ahead, turned back.

‘Talk to who?’ He also looked in the direction Scorpius was looking. ‘What, _now_?’

‘When else am I going to?’

‘I don’t know—maybe some time when she’s not surrounded by Gryffindors!’ Calypso said with exasperation.

‘Well, she’s always going to be surrounded by Gryffindors,’ Scorpius pointed out. ‘She is one. And I didn’t even see her after her Sorting.’

Calypso and Danny exchanged glances.

‘If you go over there now,’ Calypso said, ‘you’re going to get in an argument with someone.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Scorpius said obstinately. ‘I’m just going to ignore them.’

‘Right.’ Calypso rolled her eyes. ‘Have you seen who’s opposite her?’

‘Lily Potter’s not her brother. Why’s she going to say anything to me? She never has before. Anyway, she’s a fourth-year.’

‘Oh, let him go, Cal,’ Danny said, grinning. ‘If he’s that desperate to get hexed, why stop him?’

‘I’m not going to get hexed—there’s like six teachers at the top table. Even Potter’s not that stupid.’

He turned away from them before they could say anything else—and before he thought better of the decision, since he didn’t think he’d ever walked up to the Gryffindor table before—and headed for Issie. Most people sitting there seemed too caught up with their own conversations to notice him among everyone else coming and going, but Issie looked up as he approached, and her face lit up into a hopeful expression, the slice of toast in her hand dropping back onto her plate.

‘Scorp!’ she said, making half a move to get up, then glancing around. She was in the middle of the long table, and there was no way across to him without either going all the way around one end or crawling underneath.

Several people had looked up and were staring at him. Lily Potter glanced over her shoulder.

‘Oh,’ she said, looking startled, then glanced at the first-years sitting opposite her. ‘Oh, sorry, d’you want to sit down?’

She shuffled along the bench, making enough space for him to sit. Scorpius hesitated, taken aback by the offer, which had been made as if she had no idea who he was. He had not thought of sitting down, but having a conversation over Lily Potter’s head was awkward. The dark girl on her other side, whose name Scorpius didn’t know, was watching the interaction with something that looked halfway between alarm and amusement, but Lily, having made space, had returned to studying her new timetable, spread on the table in front of her.

‘Er, thanks,’ he said, feeling awkward.

‘You’re welcome,’ she said absently. ‘Hey, Meri, I’ve got Muggle Studies before lunch—what have you got?’

Her attention was no longer on him, and he sat down with his legs on the outside of the bench, twisted round so that he could look at Issie, which at least made it clear, he hoped, that he was not actually planning on staying.

‘Hey, Is. How’s it going?’

‘Hello.’ Issie looked a little bit wary. ‘It, um. It’s okay. I mean, it’s good.’

‘You sure?’ Scorpius persisted.

‘Yeah.’ For the first time, a smile started to push its way onto her face. ‘I thought… I mean, you don’t mind? That I’m not in Slytherin?’

Scorpius smiled ruefully back at her. ‘Well, you know. Means I can’t keep an eye on you and stop you getting into trouble.’

Her eyes narrowed at him, chin tilting up. ‘You couldn’t anyway.’

He laughed, feeling his mood lighten. She was okay. Issie was tough—tougher than him.

‘That’s probably true. Have you written to Mum and Dad yet?’

Her eyes clouded again. ‘No. I don’t know… What should I say to them, Scorp?’

Scorpius sighed, wishing he knew what to tell her. ‘Look, it’s only a house.’ Issie looked surprised at that, so he hurried on. ‘They’re not going to mind. They know you can’t control where you’re Sorted. You never know, they might not even be that surprised. I wasn’t,’ he added honestly. He’d been shocked, but not surprised. ‘Anyway, what are they going to do? Storm into school and say you’ve got to be re-Sorted?’

She smiled a little again, and Scorpius hoped that he was right about their parents’ reaction. He didn’t think they’d be angry, but they might be disappointed. Surely they wouldn’t show that to Issie, though. They rarely showed anything they were feeling anyway—or talked about it. Maybe that would be a good thing in this situation.

‘Hey, Malfoy!’ an unwelcome voice broke in.

Issie twisted around in her seat, eyes wide, and Scorpius lifted his gaze to James Potter, standing behind his sister. He sighed.

‘Morning, Potter.’

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Lily Potter had also lifted her head and was watching again. So was the girl she was sitting with, and several other people around them.

‘Get lost, did you?’ Potter demanded.

Scorpius tried to remember what he’d told Danny and Calypso—if he got into an argument with Potter, he’d be proving them right. Plus, his little sister was sitting right there.

However, someone else spoke before he could.

‘ _Obviously_ not; he’s talking to his sister, James!’ Lily Potter said

Potter scowled at her, distracted.

‘Sorry, didn’t realise you two were such good friends,’ he said.

That was a slightly alarming direction for the conversation to go in, but once again, Lily Potter was speaking before he could even think of what he wanted to say.

‘We aren’t,’ she said, in a tone that was just direct honesty, not an attempt to disclaim. ‘I don’t have to be friends with someone to be polite to them. Same as someone doesn’t have to have done anything wrong for you to be rude to them, apparently.’

This was so unexpected that Scorpius’s mouth opened slightly, although no words came out. The Longbottom kid giggled, and then seemed to realise what she’d done and pulled her face straight. James Potter wasn’t looking at her, however.

‘Lily, he’s _sitting at our table_.’

This, Scorpius took as a cue, and hurriedly pushed himself to his feet. He’d told Calypso and Danny that he wasn’t going to get into an argument, and he had no intention of it, although James Potter often seemed capable of carrying on his side of a fight whether his opponent wanted to take part or not. However, what he seemed to have done was get into the middle of a fight between two Potter siblings, and that was even worse.

‘I’m going,’ he said firmly. ‘Hey, Issie, I’ll catch you at lunch, okay?’ He glanced up at Potter, and thought again. ‘Wait for me outside the Hall. I’ll see you there.’

As he departed, he heard simultaneously the boy who was sitting next to Issie, saying, ‘Was that your brother?’ and Lily Potter, saying ‘Oh my god, James!’

Well. That had been unexpected, but Lily Potter had just jumped somewhat higher in his opinion. He couldn’t really have said what he’d thought about her before. She was pretty—but two years younger than him, so not like _that_ —and as popular as James, but not as loud, and seemed to sort float around, somehow. He’d always got the impression that she had her head in the clouds most of the time.

Maybe if there were more people like her in Gryffindor, and fewer like her oldest brother, Issie would do okay.

*

Issie felt almost guilty for liking Sophie Longbottom so much. Dad never exactly _said_ anything, but she knew he’d been at school with Professor Longbottom—whom she would meet properly when they had Herbology second lesson—and she knew they hadn’t liked each other. It was all tangled up with things that had happened in the war too, which Scorpius understood better than she did, and which Dad talked even less about—didn't talk about at all, in fact.

But it would have been impossible not to like Sophie, she was so friendly. And she seemed to like Issie, too. Issie had never really had friends her own age—she’d had Scorpius, and she liked Scorp’s friend, Hazel, but they weren’t _friends_ , not really. And you couldn’t call the kids she’d been pushed with at parties proper friends either. Sophie was different, and Sam, and even Jake Nelson, who had sat beside them at breakfast.

Antigone was a little bit more complicated, but Issie tried to ignore that.

Her morning went quite well. She enjoyed her first Charms lesson, and she liked Herbology even more. Professor Longbottom was teaching them about Bouncing Bulbs, and when he’d shown everyone how to hold the bulbs so that they didn’t bounce away from you or hit you in the face, and set everyone to collect pots and trowels, he came around giving everyone a bulb.

Issie was sitting next to Sophie, who beamed as he approached them.

‘Hello, Dad!’

Professor Longbottom sighed. ‘Soph, you know you can’t call me that in lessons.’

Sophie pulled a face. ‘Fine, hello, _Professor_. This is my friend, Iseult.’

‘Yes, so I gather.’ Professor Longbottom smiled at her. ‘I hope you're settling in alright, Iseult. Don't let this young woman talk you to death. We're very pleased to have you in Gryffindor, by the way."

Whether he meant it or not, he managed to sound as though he did, and she was grateful.

She saw Scorpius again at lunchtime, and had a longer chat with him about her lessons, and the girls in her dorm, and the Bouncing Bulb that had slipped out of her hand and hit her in the shoulder. She was even feeling happy as she headed off with Sophie for the Potions Dungeon.

They had Potions with the Slytherins. As Issie entered the room, a little group at the front of the classroom turned and stared at her. Eris Montague was there, with Lilith Avery beside her, and her eyes spiked into Issie. Issie’s cheeks burned. She’d never liked Eris much—she tagged along with her older brother and his friends, and did the things they did, which were frequently not very nice.

However, Professor Clearwater herself, who taught Potions, swept in right behind Sophie and Issie, and called for everyone to sit down, so none of the Slytherins were able to say anything.

It wasn’t a very fun lesson. Eris and Lilith, and sometimes some of the others, kept looking around at her and then whispering to each other whenever Professor Clearwater wasn’t looking. Once, when Clearwater was bending over someone’s cauldron at the other side of the classroom, Eris turned herself around more fully, her sleek, dark curls flicking over her shoulder, and threw a ball of parchment at Issie. It landed on her desk beside her cauldron.

‘Ignore it!’ whispered Sophie, beside her.

But Issie, staring at Eris, who was still twisted around in her seat with a small smile on her face, slowly uncrumpled the parchment and stared at the words on it.

‘BLOOD TRATER.'

Written large in black ink, the letters a little uneven. Issie’s happy mood dissolved, and to her horror, she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes.

Sophie read it and immediately puffed up with indignation, her cheeks turning pink.

‘That's _horrible_!" she hissed. "They'd be in so much trouble if we showed that to Professor Clearwater!’

Jake was sharing their bench, and leaned over to read it too. Then he looked over at the girl who had sent it.

‘Who is she?’ he whispered. ‘D'you know her?’

‘Sort of,’ Issie said, miserably. ‘My mum and dad know hers.’

It didn’t matter, she told herself. She didn’t care what Eris Montague thought.

Jake took the parchment and looked at it, then grabbed his quill, crossed out ‘TRATER’ and wrote ‘TRAITOR’ below it.

‘Stupid. Can’t even spell,’ he said, perfectly audibly, screwing the paper up and throwing it back at Eris.

His aim was good, and it bounced off her head. Sophie giggled delightedly, and even Issie smiled through the lump in her throat.

He spent the rest of the lesson sucking tiny pellets of parchment and pelting Eris Montague with them whenever Professor Clearwater wasn't watching, but despite that, Issie couldn’t quite regain the happy feeling she’d had at lunch, and she was glad when the lesson ended.

*

Scorpius didn’t check his phone again until he went back to his dormitory after dinner.

Calypso and Danny were in the common room, along with most other people, and the dorm was empty. He couldn’t be long, because he’d made an excuse about wanting to fetch a book. Nevertheless, he pulled the curtain between him and the door, so he’d have a moment to hide the phone if anyone came in.

There was another message from Hazel, sent about lunchtime, and Scorpius frowned when he opened it.

**-hey scorp, call me when you can, something’s happened**

It wasn’t like her to be that cryptic, and he had a bad feeling as he hit the call button, without really thinking about the fact that he was standing in the dormitory. ‘Something’ had to be something bad, or she wouldn’t have said it like that.

He waited impatiently as it rang once, twice, three times. Then she picked up.

‘Scorp?’

Her voice on the phone was strange—it seemed to come from far away, and there was a slight glitch in it. When he talked to people on the Glasschat, it was as if they were there in the room with him.

‘Hazel—what’s the matter? Are you okay? I only just saw your message, sorry.’

‘Yes. Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to panic you.’

He’d known her since they were six years old, though, and he could hear the anxiety in her voice.

‘Seriously, what happened? Why did you need me to call?’

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. Scorpius glanced at the curtain that hid the dormitory door from his view. There was no sound of anyone approaching, and he’d hear them on the stairs, but he couldn’t stay on the phone forever.

‘Hazel?’

‘Yeah. Listen, this is going to sound weird. But have you… heard anything about something happening here? In Mirlton, I mean?’

‘What d’you mean?’ Scorpius frowned, sitting down slowly on his bed. Mirlton, where they both lived, was a Muggle town. He never heard anything about it while he was away from it, except what Hazel or his parents told him, and he hadn’t exactly had time to get a letter from them yet.

‘Well, something weird happened,’ Hazel said. ‘There’s this girl, Fiona—you wouldn’t know her, she’s younger than us, but she’s best friends with Charlotte Baker. You know, Anna’s little sister? Anyway, so I was at Anna’s, and Charlotte came in, practically crying, and she said she’d been hanging out with Fiona, and then Fiona had been ill in the street, like passed out or something, and been taken off in an ambulance.’

‘Shit,’ Scorpius said, though he was feeling mystified. What did this have to do with him? ‘I mean, that’s awful. Did she— _die_?’

‘No—no. She’s going to be okay, apparently. But this is the weird part, Scorp. The police brought Charlotte home—at least she said it was the police, but I don’t know why the police would have been there for a girl fainting in the street. But when they dropped her off, she checked her phone, and someone had posted a video of Fiona. Only she wasn’t passing out, she was like—God, it was weird. She was dancing and stuff—like she was drunk or high or something. And then she grabbed something off the ground and, like, threw it through a shop window. Completely smashed it! And Scorp, you don’t know Fiona, but she’s the quietest kid. She’d never do something like that! But everyone was reposting it with stupid comments, thinking it was funny and stuff—it was horrible.’

‘Merlin. Yeah, horrible,’ he agreed, still completely confused. ‘But…’

‘But the _weirdest_ part,’ Hazel went on, ‘is that Charlotte says she doesn’t remember it happening. She remembers that they were sitting on a bench together in the square, and suddenly Fiona started looking green and keeled over. And someone called 999, and the paramedics turned up, and that was that. But like, why would someone call 999 in the first place, just for someone fainting? You’d sit her up and give her a drink of water or something. And Scorp, I _saw_ that video. Charlotte showed me and Anna. She didn’t faint at all, so why is that all Charlotte remembers?’

Scorpius had no real idea of half of what she was talking about, but his heart had sunk through his stomach as she talked. He knew what she was thinking now—and he was thinking the same thing. Hazel knew about magic. She didn’t know a whole lot of specifics, but she knew what happened to non-magical people if they witnessed something magical. And it sounded like she could be right. It could be Obliviation. But what had happened to the girl in the first place?

‘What about other people?’ He found his voice. ‘What about the person who posted the video?’

‘It was some kid in their year—I don’t think it was one of their friends,’ Hazel said, a shake in her voice. ‘But Charlotte called the other girls they were with, and they all remember the same thing as her. The fainting story. Scorp, d’you think I’m right? D’you think there’s… you know, magic involved?’

‘I don’t know.’ Scorpius was trying to think. What should he do? If mass Obliviation had happened, that suggested the Ministry knew already. Except they obviously hadn’t done a very good job—things were leaking all over the place. That was a big Breach of the Statute. ‘It sounds like it could be. Is the video still up?’

‘I don’t know. It just got passed around people in their year, I think. But listen, Scorp, there’s something else I have to tell you.’ He heard her take a deep breath at the other end of the phone. ‘Your mum was in the video. In the background.’

The news hit like a stone into his heart, and he found that he was gripping the green blanket of his bed. His mum. If the Ministry knew… If someone had cursed that kid, or done anything at all to her with magic, and the Ministry knew his mother had been there, there was only one thing they’d think, wasn’t there? A Malfoy, right there on the scene. Merlin, maybe even Hazel thought that.

‘It wasn’t her,’ he said quickly. ‘You know that, right? Whatever it was, she’d never do that. She wouldn’t hurt a kid.’

‘I know,’ Hazel said at once. ‘I know she wouldn’t. I just… I had to tell you. There was another woman with her too. At least I think they were together—there was a crowd, though, they might just have been standing next to each other.’

Scorpius’s mind raced. His mum had friends still, more friends than his dad had. It could have been any of them—or Aunt Daphne.

‘What did she look like? The other woman?’

‘She had dark hair. I don’t know. That’s all I noticed. I only saw her in the background of this video for a few seconds, Scorp. She might not even have been with your mum.’

Dark hair meant it wasn’t Aunt Daphne, but it didn’t narrow it much further than that.

‘What should I do, Scorp?’ Hazel went on. ‘I mean, should I tell someone? I don’t want that video going round. People are laughing at her, and it isn’t funny. I’d tell someone here, but…’

But then that would mean more people seeing the video. More people talking about it. Non-magical people. And not only could it lead the Ministry to his mother—and with everything else Mum had going on right now too— it might lead them back to Hazel too, and Scorpius couldn’t let himself think about what could happen then. Breach of the Statute? He’d been casually breaching it himself for ten years.

‘I don’t know,’ he said helplessly. ‘I don’t know. Look, can I think about it? Until tomorrow at least?’

‘I suppose so.’ She didn’t sound too happy about it. ‘But after that, I have to tell someone. It isn’t fair on Fiona.’

And the longer the video stayed up without the Ministry knowing about it, the worse the Statute Breach got.

‘Okay. Tomorrow, I’ll think of something. Just… just don’t talk about it to anyone, Hazel. Keep your head down, yeah?’

Because if they found her, and removed her memories of the video, what other memories of the magical world might they remove at the same time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my smarter friend pearl (ginnyweasleys) for naming the glasschat for me. love you pearl <3


	3. Imperio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wizarding World reacts to the cursing of a young Muggle girl, and Scorpius faces suspicion falling on his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read the first two chapters, especially everyone who's left kudos and comments!

Harry Potter looked at his watch, sighed, downed the dregs of his fifth cup of coffee of the afternoon, and shuffled the loose parchment on his desk together. He didn't like leaving the department when they were dealing with a major incident, but he was already forty-five minutes later than he’d said he’d be, and there wasn’t really much more he could do here now. It had been a very long day.

Dennis Creevey appeared around his office door as he stood up.

‘Oh, that you off?’ Dennis asked.

‘Why?’ Harry’s hand hovered over the brown outer robe that was hanging on the back of his chair. ‘Have we got an update?’

‘Only that the kid’s going to be okay.’

‘Well, thank god for that,’ Harry said, with feeling. ‘Any leads?’

Dennis shook his head. ‘Too soon to know. Oh, but Ron asked me to let you know he’s talked to the witch who Flooed the incident in. Apparently it was Astoria Malfoy.’

Harry snapped his fingers. ‘Of course! That’s why Mirlton sounded familiar! That’s where the Malfoys live. Threw me off because it’s a Muggle town.’ He frowned. ‘Bit of a weird coincidence, isn’t it?’

‘Bit of one,’ Dennis agreed. ‘We’ll know more later, though. You want me to let you know if there are any developments?’

‘If anything important comes in in the next couple of hours, yes. Otherwise, I’ll be seeing Ron later anyway—he can catch me up.’

‘Dinner plans?’ Dennis enquired.

Harry nodded, a small smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. ‘At the boss’s house. Although Ginny’ll put her foot down if all we do is talk work.’

Dennis laughed. ‘Well, give them my regards. Reckon we’ve got a long evening ahead of us here.’

‘If we get any major developments, I’ll come back in later,’ Harry told him.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was even worse for Dennis, who had young kids at home—kids he presumably would not be seeing until they were in bed and asleep tonight, thanks to the individual who’d made a horrible attack on another child.

Dennis nodded.

‘Alright. I'll keep you in the loop. But unless they catch the bastard, I’m not expecting much before tomorrow. We’ll have to release a press statement then. You up for talking to them?

‘Unless I can convince Ron to do it, I suppose I’ll have to be.’ Talking to the press was one of Harry’s least favourite parts of his job, but after the day Ron had presumably had, it didn’t seem fair to make him do that too.

‘Night, then,’ Dennis said, as Harry headed for his fireplace.

‘Goodnight. And good luck.’

‘Have you heard from the kids yet?’ Hermione asked, pouring out three glasses of wine and leaving the fourth one empty on the side table, with the bottle.

Ginny laughed as she accepted the glass, slipping her shoes off so that she could curl her legs up under her. ‘Thanks, Hermione. No, but I suppose no news is good news. What about Rose and Hugo?’

‘Not a squeak.’ Hermione handed Harry his drink too, and sat down on an armchair beside the sofa where Harry and Ginny sat. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything from Rose, but Hugo always used to get in touch pretty quickly, until about this time last year. That’s teenagers for you, though, isn’t it?’

Harry laughed, although his eyes were on the fireplace, where he assumed Ron would be appearing at any minute. They were all a little on edge, waiting. What had happened that day wasn’t yet public knowledge, but Hermione knew about it, as Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, and he had given Ginny the bare bones of it before they left home. This sort of thing wasn’t a normal occurrence, even for the Auror Department. But they were all trying to keep the conversation on light, ordinary things—after all, until Ron arrived, there wasn’t much to discuss about it.

‘Give them time,’ he said. ‘They only had their first day of lessons today. Although we’ll probably hear _about_ James before we hear _from_ him.’

Ginny shook her head with a sigh. ‘I don’t know what to do with that boy.’

‘Oh, come on.’ Hermione smiled. ‘He’ll settle down. His heart’s in the right place.’

‘I’m not remotely worried about his heart,’ Ginny retorted. ‘But I’d prefer it if he didn’t get himself expelled before he manages to sit his NEWTs.’

‘He won’t get expelled,’ Hermione said reassuringly. ‘He’s not really that much worse than we were at his age.’

‘ _We_?’ Harry raised his eyebrows at her.

She laughed. ‘Alright, I wasn’t going to say it, but fine. He’s not really any worse than _you_ two were at his age. I seem to remember someone being fairly lethal with a Bat Bogey Hex.’

Harry chuckled, then was sober again. ‘It was different for us, though. I mean, we got involved in a lot of shit—you included, Hermione—but we were fighting a war. James doesn’t really have that sort of excuse.’

‘Well, let’s just be glad he doesn’t,’ Hermione said quietly.

‘I’ll drink to _that_ ,’ Ginny agreed, holding her glass up.

At that moment, the fireplace glowed green, and they all three turned to watch as Ron appeared in it, still in his Auror robes, his hair dishevelled.

‘Merlin, Harry,’ he said as he stepped away from the hearth. ‘Don’t know what I’ve done to you recently to deserve being given that case! Bloody nightmare from start to finish.’

‘What happened?’ Hermione asked, half rising. ‘Come and sit down—you look exhausted.’

‘Just for a minute, then.’ Ron sat down in the other arm chair and leant back against the cushions. ‘I need to go and change—and shower—before dinner. No, I won’t have a drink now, I’ll save it. What happened? Well, I wish we knew.’

‘But the little girl had been Imperiused?’ Ginny asked. ‘How is she? What did they do to her?’

‘Yes.’ Ron’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘We had to get people from St Mungo’s out, but they say there’s no physical damage. And she won’t remember any of it, which is something, I suppose. We were able to ask her some questions, but she had no idea what had happened to her, poor kid. She was out shopping with some friends, and just suddenly lost control in the middle of the town square. Dancing on a bench, apparently, and then throwing things at her friends, and she broke a shop window with a stone. She’s only thirteen—younger than our crowd.’

Harry felt a little sick as he heard it. It was a long time since they’d had to deal with any of the Unforgivable Curses, and even longer since there’d been any cases of one used on a child. He himself remembered what it felt like to be under the Imperius Curse, that sudden terrifying inability to control anything you did. The idea of being a child, experiencing it without any idea of what it was or who was doing this to you or why it was happening was awful.

Who would have done it? Was it someone’s disgusting idea of a joke? Or was there something worse going on?

‘Why would someone do something like that, though?’ Hermione almost echoed his thoughts. ‘I mean, what on earth’s the _point_?’

Ron held his hands up helplessly. ‘Merlin knows. Fun? There used to be people who liked doing that sort of sick thing—I’m sure there are still some around.’

‘Did you talk to Astoria Malfoy?’ Harry asked. ‘Dennis said she was the one who called it in to us.’

‘Yes, and we’re lucky she did,’ Ron replied. ‘The Muggles were all over it. Someone had called their police when the window got broken, so the Liaison Office is busy tonight. So’s the Obliviation Squad. Some Muggle kid had taken a video of the whole thing and sent it to all their friends too, the little shit.’

‘What was Astoria Malfoy doing there?’ Ginny asked, frowning.

‘She lives a few streets away and happened to be passing. Hell of a coincidence.’ Ron looked at Harry. ‘Hard to see why she’d have contacted us if she had anything to do with it, though. And she’s got no history of the Dark Arts. Malfoy’s a different matter, but again, why would she call the Auror Department on her husband?’

‘And even Malfoy hasn’t been up to anything dodgy since the war,’ Harry pointed out. ‘Renounced the Dark Arts and tucked himself away in a little Muggle town to stay out of sight. He even refused to join the League of Magic, according to what he told the _Prophet_. Why the hell would he suddenly want to do something like this?’

The trouble was, he couldn’t think of a reason _anyone_ would want to do something like that. It was just so cruel and random, and served no purpose for anyone, except to make trouble for the Ministry. Maybe that was the point, and the kid was the tool, unimportant and not worth worrying about. Somehow, that was almost worse.

‘It’s very strange, though, happening practically next door to them.’ Hermione sounded as if she was thinking out loud. ‘And not only that, but Astoria being right on hand to witness it. The other option, of course, is that it was deliberate. I mean, the Malfoys aren’t exactly popular in a lot of circles, are they? Especially after that statement to the _Prophet_.’

‘You mean someone could be trying to make us think they’re involved? It’s possible.’ Ron pushed himself back to his feet. ‘I don’t really think they were involved, to be honest. Astoria Malfoy seemed just as worried about the kid as we were. It’s weird, her being on the scene, but there we are. Oh, and I think I’ve found out why Malfoy was by himself at the station yesterday, even thought it's their little girl's first year. Astoria's pregnant, very much so. I’d say about seven or eight months.’

‘No, really?’ Hermione said, sounding startled. ‘Well, I can understand why she didn’t want to appear at King’s Cross. The gossip rags would love that—and you know they’d manage to make it sordid,’ she added with distaste.

‘Yeah, bit of a talking point,’ Ron agreed. ‘Another baby when they’re both well into their forties. I imagine it was a surprise for them as well.’

‘Well, rather her than me,’ Ginny said, taking a mouthful of wine. ‘I mean, the kids are great, but been there, done that, as far as I’m concerned.’

Harry chuckled, shaking himself out of his thoughts about the case, resting a hand on her knee. ‘Damn, I’d been meaning to talk to you about that,’ he said teasingly.

‘Don’t even joke,’ Ginny told him, raising an eyebrow. ‘Teenagers are hard enough work, without adding nappies and sleepless nights back in on top, thanks.’

‘Well, let’s hope Draco doesn’t feel that way,’ Ron said. ‘And now I’m going to change, so we can have dinner. I’m starving.’

He disappeared upstairs, as Hermione and Ginny started reminiscing about hair-raising stories from their children’s baby days. Harry, for a moment, let his mind wander over the events of the day and what they might mean.

Peace had been a hard-won thing. Prejudice and out-of-date belief systems were things they were still struggling with, even now. They’d tried to bring their own children up without any of those, but it was hard when they were plunged into the morass of Hogwarts, with its house divides and its competitiveness and teenage emotions running high. Take James, who didn’t have a bigoted bone in his body when it came to Muggles and Muggleborns, but who thrived on the rivalry with the Slytherins. Old attitudes clung on hard. You only had to look at the people forming things like the League of Magic to know that.

Was this an isolated incident, or was it a bubbling up of something that had only been just below the surface all the time?

*

Scorpius still had not decided what to do with what Hazel had told him by mid-morning on Saturday, when he had to go down to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the team for try-outs. They had two Chaser spots to fill, and Jareth Flint, the seventh-year captain, had told the whole team they needed to be there.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even when he was in front of the goal hoops. Maybe he should try to talk to his parents. If he asked Sewell, he might let Scorpius use the Floo in his office. But then Mum and Dad would want to know how Scorpius knew about it, and he couldn’t tell them, because, while they knew Hazel, they had no idea that she knew about magic. And Mum didn’t need this on top of everything. Even though she'd stopped being sick now, she still seemed tired and worried all the time. He couldn’t put this on her and Dad.

Flint flew up to him, looking annoyed.

‘For fuck’s sake, Malfoy!’ he said. ‘How am I meant to know who’s scoring best if you’re letting every easy shot go past you? Get it together, will you?’

Scorpius tried a little harder, because he did care about the Quidditch team, even if he’d originally only tried out to make his dad happy and had been slightly surprised to be chosen as Keeper. However he was still thinking about Hazel, and about the girl in Mirlton, and his mother, when they all made their way back up to the castle. Ahead of him, Jareth Flint was talking to Jasper Parkinson about the various Chaser candidates, and Xanthe Derrick, the existing Chaser, fell into step with Scorpius, giving him a sideways look as sharp as glass.

‘ _So_ ,’ she said, her voice full of expectation as she paused, clearly waiting for him to fill the gap.

Scorpius glanced at her, confused. He and Xanthe had shared classes for five years, and had been on the Quidditch team together for two, but he couldn’t actually remember a time when she’d willingly come and talked to him. What did she want? Was this about Issie?

‘Thought you’d be trying to tell Flint who to pick as the new Chasers,’ he said, refusing to rise to her bait.

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted. ‘I already know who he’s going to pick. Ariadne Nott and Desdemona Dimitar are the best flyers in Slytherin, other than me.’

Scorpius couldn’t quite refrain from rolling his eyes.

‘Modest, aren’t you?’

She didn’t blink. ‘It’s just true. Anyway, I assume you _have_ seen the papers?’

The papers? Well, not Issie, then. ‘No. Why, what’s in them?’

She looked startled for a moment, then a slow, delighted smile spread across her face.

‘Really? Fuck. You might want to check that out then. It’s all over the front page of the _Prophet_.’

‘What is?’ demanded Martin Selwyn from the other side of her, echoing Scorpius’s thoughts.

‘Merlin.’ Xanthe rolled her eyes. ‘Do you two even keep up with the news? Some Muggle kid got Imperiused.’

Scorpius stopped dead, cold horror trickling over him. Both of the others stopped too, staring at him. Xanthe’s eyes narrowed.

‘You did know about it,’ she said, her tone accusing.

Scorpius shook his head, trying to force his legs to do as he told them and keep walking.

‘No, I didn’t know. Just—that’s horrible, isn’t it?’ He managed to move at last and strode forward quickly.

‘Do they know who did it?’ Martin asked, as he and Xanthe followed. To give him credit, he sounded very serious. Away from Searle Nott, Martin wasn’t so bad, but that was the trouble with Nott—people followed him.

Xanthe was still watching Scorpius as she kept pace with him. ‘No. But your mum got a mention, Scorpius.’

Scorpius’s fists clenched, and he walked even faster. ‘Bullshit. Why would she? My mum doesn’t go around casting _Imperio_ on kids.’

His heart was pounding, and he felt a little sick. He had to get hold of the _Prophet_ and see what it said. They couldn’t think she’d done it, could they? He had to see Issie before she saw it too. He had to talk to Hazel. He had to Floo his parents. He had to—

‘Never said she did.’ Xanthe sounded almost gleeful. ‘I only said she got mentioned. And your dad too, actually. There’s a whole thing about your family, because it happened in that crappy little town you live in.’

‘Seriously?’ Martin said. ‘They haven’t arrested them, have they? Hey, Scorpius—’

Scorpius swung around to face them both, suddenly furious. ‘Look, just drop it, will you? I told you, my mum doesn’t cast curses on kids! Nor does my dad. So fucking leave it.’

And he strode off, not looking back to see their reactions.

Back in the common room, he ignored Calypso waving at him to attract his attention from the other side of the room. There was a copy of the _Prophet_ lying on a table where a bunch of fifth-years were sitting, and he marched up and grabbed, also ignoring the stares and giggles. Then he hurried for the dormitory, hoping that nobody would follow him.

He pulled the curtains around his bed, flung himself onto it, and stared at the front page.

 _“MUGGLE TERROR RETURNS!”_ the headline screamed.

Underneath was a picture of a familiar scene, although not one he’d ever thought he’d see in the _Prophet_. It was the town square of Mirlton, with its cobble stones and benches and the mossy stone statue in the middle. He could see the striped canopy of the little café, the window of the jewellers’, the front of the Muggle bank.

And there it was, under the picture, in black and white.

_Imperius Curse cast on Muggle girl, 13, in Malfoy hometown._

He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. It didn’t matter, did it? It didn’t matter how many years went by, it didn’t matter what they did or said to distance themselves from the Dark Arts or from Muggle persecution. All that mattered was what his father had been in the past.

_For the first time for almost a decade, a Muggle has been targeted with an Unforgivable Curse. Aurors were called to the small northern town of Mirlton on Friday morning to find a thirteen-year-old girl under the effects of the Imperius Curse. The child was behaving erratically, even dangerously, and had already done considerable damage to a shop-front window._

It all matched up. It was exactly what Hazel had said. The article didn’t name the girl, but Scorpius knew her name—Fiona. Scorpius scanned down, skipping parts, looking for his parents’ names. There they were.

_The incident occurred a short distance from the home of ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy and his wife Astoria, née Greengrass. Reports that Mrs. Malfoy had been arrested in connection with the attack have been denied by the Auror Department. At a press conference this morning, Harry Potter, Head of the Auror Department, stated that no arrests had been made, but that Astoria Malfoy had been questioned as a witness._

A witness. She’d been a witness. Well, he’d known that already, from what Hazel had said. How did the _Prophet_ always manage to twist things around, though? They made it seem like she was guilty, like she hadn’t been arrested _yet_ , but it could happen any day. The Aurors hadn’t said that, but the paper made it sound like it.

He skim-read the rest. The girl had been treated by Healers from St Mungo’s, and would make a full recovery. The Aurors were still investigating, and weren't revealing much. There was a statement from Mr Potter about how seriously they were taking it, how much they condemned crimes against Muggles, and asking people not to panic, because it was, as things stood, an isolated incident.

At the bottom, it told him to turn to page four for comment, so he did, then wished he hadn’t. It was barely about the incident at all—it was all about his family, about the war, about how his father and grandfather had escaped prison by the skin of their teeth. It would never be forgotten, never forgiven.

Scorpius thrust the paper away from him and let it fall to the floor with a rustling of pages as he stared upwards, barely seeing anything. They couldn’t really be going to pin it on his mum. She hadn’t done it. He didn’t even need to talk to her to know that. And if she hadn’t done it, they wouldn’t find any evidence that she had, would they?

He only wished he could really believe that—that innocent people never got the blame for things they hadn’t done. They said the Auror Department was better these days, under Harry Potter, but they had to say that, didn’t they? Would people like Mr Potter even want to give people like his mum a fair chance, or would they just want to believe the worst, like the _Daily Prophet_ and everyone else?

At least now he could Floo his parents and say he’d read it in the paper. He wouldn’t let them brush him off this time—he’d make them tell him what was going on. It didn’t solve the problem of what to do about Hazel and the video, though. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. Hazel was right. She had to try to get the video taken down—but maybe she didn’t need to be the one who spread the word. Maybe her friend Anna could do it, and then Hazel wasn’t linked to it at all. And once that was done, why should he bother about telling the Ministry, when all they wanted to do was blame his family anyway? Let them worry about the secrecy breach, not him.

He reached for both his wand and his phone and cast a _Muffliato_ spell around himself. If anyone came in, they’d assume he was on the Glasschat to his parents or something—although both Cal and Danny knew the Malfoys didn’t own such a thing—and the main thing was that they wouldn’t be able to hear his actual conversation.

He called Hazel.

She picked up after a few rings.

‘Scorp? What’s the matter?’

‘Hey, Hazel. Look, I’ve been thinking about that video,’ he started, without preamble.

‘What video?’

She sounded genuinely puzzled, and Scorpius paused. She wasn’t joking—she wouldn’t joke about something like that. And when she’d picked up, she’d sounded like she hadn’t been expecting him. Realisation started to dawn.

‘Hazel… you remember calling me yesterday, right?’

‘Calling you yesterday?’ She sounded even more confused. ‘I didn’t call you yesterday—did I? Unless I did by mistake. Did you have a missed call?’

Of all the outcomes, this was one he hadn’t expected, and his head was already reeling so much that he couldn’t work out whether this made things better or worse. Unless… Merlin. Another horrible thought occurred to him.

‘You still remember everything else, though, right? Like, you know where I am? You know _what_ I am?’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ she asked. ‘Why wouldn’t I remember? Scorp, what’s going on?’

‘Look, don’t freak out,’ he told her, speaking quickly. ‘But you didn’t call me by mistake yesterday. You called me, and I answered, and we talked.’

‘What—’ she started, but he kept going.

‘You told me about a girl called Fiona. Something happened to her yesterday.’ He hesitated. He still didn’t know what she remembered and what she didn’t. But she remembered _him_ , so they couldn’t have taken everything. They couldn’t have found out what she knew. ‘You thought it was magic.’

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. Then her voice came slowly.

‘You know… I _do_ remember calling you yesterday. I think. But I don’t remember talking to you, or what we talked about. That’s so weird. Why would I call you to tell you about Fiona Murphy fainting? You don’t even know her, do you? And it wasn’t anything to do with magic—she was just ill.’

Scorpius took a deep breath. ‘But you do… you do remember about magic, right?’

She laughed, although she didn’t sound completely amused. ‘Of course I do—why wouldn’t I? Scorp, what’s going on?’ An edge of panic came into her voice. ‘Why don’t I remember talking to you?’

‘Well, I _think_ ,’ he said slowly, ‘I think you’ve had your memory modified.’

There was another small silence.

‘ _What?_ ’ she said, her voice sharp. ‘Like… what your ministry does to people? But they can’t have—I still remember you. I still remember about magic and Hogwarts, and, and everything.’

‘Except not about what happened to Fiona.’

Carefully, he repeated to her their conversation from the day before, adding the bit about the newspaper report this morning, although he left out the part about his mum. She didn’t say very much, and he thought she was struggling to take it in.

‘But they didn’t… They can’t have realised that I knew everything,’ she whispered at last. ‘Do you… do you think they got everyone? Like Anna and Charlotte and whoever posted the video?’

‘Probably, yeah,’ he said. ‘If they found the video, they’d be trying to track down everyone who’d seen it. And they must have found you through Charlotte.’

That was more impressive than he’d expected. They’d tracked Hazel down fast—and she hadn’t even looked at it on her own phone, only on her friend’s sister’s.

‘I—God. This is _horrible_ ,’ Hazel said.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Scorpius said. ‘But look, Hazel, the people who do that sort of thing—to Muggles or to _anyone_ —well, it’s just a few people. It’s not normal, not these days. If they catch whoever did it, they’ll go to prison, for a really long time.’

‘No, I—I know,’ she said shakily. ‘But it’s not just them, is it? It’s illegal for someone to do mind control on a kid, but it’s legal for your _government_ to just go into people’s heads and take their memories? My memories, and Anna’s and Charlotte’s, and—and everyone’s?’

‘Well. Yeah. I mean, they have to,’ Scorpius said, feeling out of his depth. ‘You know about the Statute of Secrecy. I told you what happens when Muggles see something magical.’

‘Yeah, but it’s different when it happens,’ she said. ‘Don’t you get it? They’ve been in my _head_. Those were my memories, and they just took them away, like it was nothing! Like I—like I didn’t matter. How do I know that was all they took away? What if there’s other stuff I’m not remembering?’

‘They wouldn’t have,’ he said. ‘Not if they didn’t realise you knew more. The Ministry Obliviators—they’re really good at it. They do it all the time.’ Why was he trying to defend the Ministry? It wasn’t like he agreed with half of what they said and did.

‘All the time?’ she echoed.

Scorpius was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. He didn’t like the fact that they’d taken Hazel’s memories either, even though they’d also solved his immediate problem for him—the video was gone.

‘Would it be legal for them to do that to one of you?’ Hazel asked eventually. ‘A witch or a wizard, I mean. Without the person’s permission.’

‘No,’ Scorpius admitted. ‘Not unless—I mean, there might be some situations where it would be, I’m not sure. But not normally.’

There was another silence. She didn’t really need to say anything—he could hear how it sounded to her.

‘D’you think they’ll catch them?’ Hazel asked at last. ‘The person who did that to Fiona, I mean?’

‘I don’t know,’ Scorpius said. ‘I hope so.’

For one thing, that would mean they’d stop coming after his parents. For another, no matter what people thought about his family, the whole thing made Scorpius sick.

‘Why her, though?’ Hazel went on. ‘Why _here?_ ’

‘I don’t know,’ he said again. Was it coincidence? It was almost unbelievable. ‘I’ll try and let you know if I hear anything, though.’

‘Okay. Thanks. And if I hear anything here, I’ll tell you too.’

Distantly, outside his _Muffliato_ spell, Scorpius heard the sound of a door opening.

‘Look, I’ve got to go,’ he said quickly. ‘Someone’s coming in. But I’ll text you soon, okay?’

He rang off and shoved the phone under his pillow, grabbing his Glasschat from the bedside table instead, before cancelling the _Muffliato_ spell and pulling open his curtains.

Searle Nott, halfway across the room to his own bed, stared at him with narrowed eyes.

‘What the fuck are you up to? Wanking in there or something?’ he demanded.

Scorpius glowered at him. ‘I was talking to my parents.’ He held up the Glasschat for Searle to see.

‘Oh, yeah.’ A faint smirk appeared on Searle’s face. ‘Heard your mum’s been casting curses on Muggles. Didn’t know she had it in her, to be honest.’

‘Fuck off. If my parents wanted in on that sort of thing, they’d have joined your dad’s precious League, wouldn’t they?’

Searle’s eyes flashed, but his lips were still smiling. ‘You mean if they had any guts they would have. But maybe your mum has more of a spine than your dad.’

With difficulty, Scorpius stopped his hand reaching for his wand.

‘Right, because it takes a lot of _spine_ to cast curses on thirteen-year-olds.’

Searle shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. My mum isn’t the one who’s been doing it.’ He turned away again, but threw back over his shoulder: ‘What do they do with babies in Azkaban, anyway?’

Scorpius sat upright, staring at Searle’s back as he rummaged in a drawer, looking for something.

‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’

Searle glanced back again. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Your Aunt Daphne told my mum. Funny, because last year everyone thought your mum and dad were going to split up, but I guess they sorted it out. Assuming the baby’s actually your dad’s, of course.’

This time Scorpius’s hand did grasp the handle of his wand, and the only thing that stopped him using it was the door opening again. Darius Avery came in, cast Scorpius a cursory look, then ignored him.

‘Hey, Searle, hurry up,’ he said instead. ‘We’re waiting for you to go for lunch.’

Searle appeared to find what he was looking for and shoved it into his pocket, although Scorpius couldn’t see what it was. He watched them head for the door again, his hand still on his wand. It was pointless, wasn’t it? He couldn’t take on both of them, and Searle Nott was just a dick who liked saying disgusting things.

Searle turned in the doorway and looked back at him for a moment.

‘Watch what you’re saying about the League, by the way, Malfoy,’ he said. ‘Because there’s nobody else sticking up for Pureblood rights at the moment. And you’re one of us, whether you like it or not.’


	4. Tips on Avoiding Bludgers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily Potter discovers a secret.

Issie opened her eyes, surfacing from sleep to the sound of whispered voices at the other end of the dormitory.

‘And anyone who was Muggle-born, they arrested them and took their wands and sent them to prison,’ Antigone’s voice was saying in hushed tones. ‘Like, they hadn’t done anything wrong—the Death Eaters just said they weren’t real witches and wizards. Muggle-born kids weren’t allowed to come to Hogwarts anymore. And her dad joined the Death Eaters when he was _sixteen_. That’s why everyone thinks her mum or dad cast that curse on the Muggle girl, because that’s literally what Death Eaters did. They don’t even think Muggles are _people_ …’

Issie yanked back her curtains, fury banishing sleepiness in one swift moment.

‘That’s not true!’ she said loudly. ‘My mum and dad don’t think that! You’re lying!’

There was a short, startled silence, and then the sound of other curtains being pulled hurriedly open, and the other girls in her dorm appeared—Sophie in her own bed, looking sleepy and confused, and Antigone and Sam sitting together on Sam’s bed. Sam stared at Issie, her expression shocked and a little horrified, but Antigone tossed her hair over one shoulder, tilting her chin up. Her cheeks had gone pink, but she met Issie’s gaze defiantly.

‘I am not lying. All of that’s true, and I think Sam’s got a right to know.’

Issie struggled into a sitting position, folding her arms across her chest. ‘My dad doesn’t think those things. You don’t even know him.’

‘Why did he join the Death Eaters then?’ Antigone said. ‘You can’t say he didn’t. And the Death Eaters _tortured_ and _killed_ people. Everyone knows that.’

Issie set her lips together, trying to stop them trembling. The truth was, she didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know why her dad had joined the Death Eaters, because he didn’t talk about it, and it wasn’t something she could ever ask him.

‘He didn’t curse that girl,’ she said, the only thing she was truly sure of. ‘Nor did my mum.’

‘Who did, then?’ Antigone demanded.

‘How’s she supposed to know that?’ Sophie broke in. ‘If the Aurors thought it was Issie’s mum or dad, they’d have arrested them, and they haven’t, and it’s been more than a week. And I’m pretty sure the Aurors know more than _you_ do, Antigone.’

Issie, though, was watching Sam. Antigone didn’t like her, she already knew that, and there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it. But Sam had been friendly and cheerful, and now she was looking at Issie as if she was suddenly slightly scared of her. As if she wasn’t sure that Issie wouldn’t think it was a good thing if people like Sam were expelled from Hogwarts and taken off to Azkaban.

Issie had never thought much about Muggle-borns at all, either good or bad, but she _liked_ Sam, and now that Sam knew these things about Issie’s family, it didn’t likely that she would want to be friends. And since it wasn’t something Issie had done herself, she didn't see how she could change it.

*

Lily Potter gripped the handle of her broom and tried to focus on not slipping off.

It was difficult when the wind had pulled her hair half out of its ponytail and into her eyes, and the rain had made both her hands and the broom cold and slippery. It was the worst weather September in the Highlands could throw at them, and absolutely nobody who wasn’t an idiot could think that it was a suitable day to go through with a Quidditch practice.

A Bludger came flying from her right, forcing her to swerve as it grazed her shoulder.

‘Hey, James!’ shrieked Saffy Jordan, the Keeper, from up ahead of Lily. ‘This is stupid! We can’t fly like this!’

Lily looked around and located her brother. She couldn’t really see his face in this weather, but his brown hair was blown up in dark, wet spikes, and she could tell from the set of his shoulders that he was scowling. Lily wanted to agree with Saffy, but it was her first ever practice with the Quidditch team, and James would be bound to make a scathing comment if she complained.

He appeared to hesitate for a moment, glancing up and down the pitch before giving in.

‘Okay, fine!’ he called, waving his arm at the more distant players. ‘Let’s stop!’

The grass squelched under Lily’s feet as she landed, her robes clinging uncomfortably. She hated the rain. Sebastian Graves, one of the Beaters, landed beside her.

‘Hey, sorry I hit you with that Bludger,’ he said, looking sideways at her.

‘Well, that was the point, wasn’t it?’ Lily said, surprised.

He laughed. ‘Well, I guess. Didn’t mean to hurt you on your first practice, though.’

‘It was a training Bludger.’ Lily smiled at him. ‘It didn’t hurt.’

‘Alright, everyone!’ James landed directly in front of them, still looking annoyed. ‘I’ll try and get the pitch again straight after lessons on Monday, okay? Nice work today, Rufus,’ he went on, looking at the other new player on the team, and then turning to Lily. ‘Lily, you need to concentrate more. Get out of the way of Bludgers before you end up having to swerve—that’s how you lose the Quaffle.’

‘Hey, James, can we save the notes until we’re somewhere dry?’ Emilia Brooke, who held the third Chaser position alongside James and Lily, broke in.

‘Common room as soon as you’re ready, then,’ James said. ‘Don’t be too long, or we won’t have time before lunch.’

Lily followed the other girls into the changing rooms. 

‘I’m showering up at the castle,’ Emilia announced, starting to gather her things together. ‘No point doing it here and then getting cold and soaking again, walking up.’

‘Good idea,’ Saffy agreed, then glanced at Lily. ‘Nobody could have avoided Bludgers in plenty of time in that weather, by the way.’

Lily pulled a face, leaning her dripping broom against a bench and peeling off her gloves. ‘Don’t worry, I’m used to him. And I know he didn’t want to put me on the team.’

‘Hey, he put you on the team because you were the best Chaser who tried out,’ Saffy said. ‘Say whatever else about James, but never say he doesn’t care about winning at Quidditch.’

‘Well, so does everyone,’ Emilia put in. ‘Isn’t that the point?’

‘Yeah, of course, I’m only saying that if James didn’t want to put Lily on the team, it’s only because she forced him to admit publicly that his little sister’s good,’ Saffy said, grinning at Lily.

Lily laughed. She liked Saffy, even though she was Rose and Al’s age, and had always been part of their crowd rather than Lily’s. She was Rose’s closest friend, and, since some time before the summer—Lily wasn’t sure exactly when it had started—she had also been Al’s girlfriend, a couple that seemed to have surprised some people more than it had surprised Lily.

‘He ought to be glad,’ said Angharad’s soft, Welsh voice. ‘It meant he didn’t have to move me to Chaser.’

Lily looked round at her. It was somehow always unexpected when Angharad spoke, because she rarely did, except when someone asked her a direct question.

‘Oh. Would you have wanted to be Chaser?’ she asked, curiously.

‘I’m better at it than Seeker,’ Angharad said, which didn't quite answer the question.

‘Don’t say that—you’re a great Seeker!’ Emilia protested.

‘I’m a better Chaser.’ Angharad spoke with quiet certainty.

‘Well, I'm sorry,’ said Lily, feeling a little bad to have taken the Chaser spot that Angharad obviously _had_ wanted. 'I didn't know.'

But Angharad was one of the best flyers Lily had seen—and the only person on the team with a Quidditch family legacy that could outdo the Potters, as she was the youngest daughter of the legendary Gwenog Jones. She might not take after her mum in personality, but Lily would have said she probably did in skill, and she was a year above Lily and had been on the team a couple of years already. So why would James have chosen Lily, instead of letting Angharad move?

‘It’s okay.’ Angharad gave her a small smile. ‘It wasn’t because of you. James had already said no to me before he held the trials. He doesn’t think he could find anyone to replace me as Seeker. Chasers are easier to find.’

‘Well, I’m heading up to the castle,’ Saffy broke in. ‘Seeing as apparently we have to have a debrief before we’re allowed to go for lunch— _and_ another practice on Monday afternoon. If he tries to do what he did last year and make us practise before breakfast, I swear I’ll quit.’

‘He’s only trying to make us the best team,’ Emilia said, as she followed Saffy towards the door of the changing rooms. ‘That’s the captain’s job.’

‘Alright, no need to be a bootlicker, even if you do fancy him.’ Saffy rolled her eyes.

‘I do not! Anyway, we all know about you and James, so—’

‘Emmy!’ Saffy hissed, spinning around and shooting a look at Lily, before glaring at Emilia.

Lily had followed this exchange with fascination.

‘You and James what?’ she asked curiously. ‘I never knew anything about that.' James was James, of course, but _Saffy_? Saffy had way too much common sense for that. 'Does Al know?' she added, as this thought struck her.

‘Me and James _nothing_.’ Saffy looked like she could have cheerfully murdered Emilia. ‘Seriously. It was nothing, and it was also way before I was going out with Al, so there’s nothing for him to know. And just so you know, Quidditch team rules, what gets said in the changing rooms stays in the changing rooms, okay?’

That did not really tell Lily the things she wanted to know, but she wasn’t really good enough friends with Saffy to keep pushing.

‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘I mean, I’m not going to tell anyone.’

‘Yeah, well. Just forget about it, because it’s not important.’ Saffy pushed open the door and disappeared out into the rain, ignoring Emilia entirely.

They followed her, the boys joining them as they hurried up to the castle as quickly as they could. However, even after she'd hurriedly changed and cast a spell to dry and tame her hair, Lily had trouble paying attention to James’s lecture in the common room, even though she supposed that a couple of his tips on avoiding Bludgers might actually be quite helpful. She was too busy watching him and Saffy, and wondering about what she’d heard, what had happened and when—not to mention _how_. She was certain she'd have known if they'd actually gone out—not that James's relationships ever lasted very long, but Lily would definitely have heard that piece of gossip. So what exactly had gone on?

However, there was no glance between them, nothing in the way they interacted to suggest anything at all. After James had finished, Saffy and Emilia both went off without a backward glance to join a group of other sixth-years, including both Rose and Albus, as they headed through the common room towards lunch. Lily watched as Saffy greeted Al with a kiss on the cheek, and he put his arm around her, and she glanced at James, but he wasn’t even paying attention, just frowning over his book of game notes.

Maybe it really was nothing, as Saffy had said.

Lily’s own friends had already disappeared, so she followed the sixth-years down to the Great Hall. Meri Hewitt was already sitting at the Gryffindor table, with Zeke Davies beside her. Lily paused and frowned. It was slightly annoying that Davies was there, because she’d been looking forward to discussing the information she’d just learnt with Meri—who didn’t count as part of her promise not to tell anyone—and she couldn’t with him there. But it was also puzzling, because Davies was not even their year, let alone their house, yet this was the second time this term that he’d chosen to come and sit with them, and they'd only been back a week. Lily knew that Meri’s dad and Zeke Davies’s dad were friends, and he and Meri had grown up knowing each other as well as Lily knew her cousins or, say, the Longbottoms. But Lily didn't sit and eat lunch with her cousins—except occasionally Hugo, and even he was usually at his own table—or with Aidan or Sophie Longbottom, and, until this year, she hadn't known Meri to hang out much with Davies either. Why had a Hufflepuff fifth-year suddenly decided they were his friends? It wasn't like he didn't have any of his own, at least Lily didn't think so.

She couldn’t do anything about it, though, and anyway, it wasn’t a completely terrible situation. Davies was cute, and he was the year above them, and the boys who were in Lily’s close crowd were mainly Hugo and his friends, who were neither of those things. So she headed over to him and Meri, and slid into a seat opposite.

‘Hey, Meri! Hey, Zeke,’ she said, helping herself to a plate and forking some cold chicken onto it.

‘Hey, Lily,’ Davies said, smiling at her.

‘Hey, Lil. How was practice?’ asked Meri.

‘Ugh.’ Lily shivered. ‘Wet and cold. We had to stop.’

‘Congratulations, though,’ Davies said. ‘Meri was just telling me you made the team. Chaser, right?’

‘Oh, thanks. Yeah, I’m a Chaser.’ Lily smiled, taking some bread to make a sandwich. She was aware that most people probably didn’t think of her as obvious Quidditch player, despite her family—and it was true that she wasn’t really serious about it, not the way James was, but still, she’d loved flying since she was little, and she _was_ good at it. But Davies didn’t seem to find it strange that she’d made the team, which was a nice change. Even Hugo had acted surprised, and she’d been flying around with him all her life. It was a little bit annoying.

‘By the way, did you guys hear?’ Davies went on. ‘They announced the date of the first Hogsmeade trip.’

‘Oh, they did?’ Lily felt a little cheered by this prospect. ‘When is it?’

‘First Saturday in October, so three weeks today. Hopefully the weather’s a bit nicer,’ he said, glancing up at the ceiling, which was as heavy and dark grey as the one outside. ‘Can’t wait to try the new stuff at Babbling Beans, though.’

‘New stuff?’ Lily leaned forwards eagerly at this news from her favourite—if somewhat pricey—Hogsmeade coffee spot. ‘Really? How did you hear that? D’you know what they’ve got?’

‘My sister’s friend works there.’ He glanced over at her and smiled. ‘I don’t know everything, but I think she said they’ve got lilac fudge cake or something, and those coconut snowstorm things—you know, the ones like little snow globes in clear sugar domes—’

‘Oh my god, they _have?_ ’ Lily broke in with delight, entirely changing her mind about Zeke Davies sitting with him—if he brought this sort of information, he could sit with them every day, as far as she was concerned. ‘Those are my absolute favourite—I’ve tried to make them so many times, but I never get it right!’

‘Yeah?’ Davies also brightened. ‘I love those too. You want to check them out with me?’

Lily beamed at him, the wet and cold Quidditch practice banished into the past at this far more pleasant prospect.

‘Yeah, definitely, that’d be great!’

‘Cool! Awesome. That’s—We can meet up here and walk down, maybe?’

‘Yeah, we can fix something. That sounds good,’ Lily agreed, smiling at him, her mind still on snowstorm cakes.

‘Right, well, I’ll see you soon, then?’ he said, standing up. ‘Like, to organise a time and stuff. It'll be fun.’

Lily, who had just taken a large bite of chicken sandwich, nodded at him, still smiling as well as she could. As he departed back to his own table, she chewed and swallowed her mouthful.

‘Maybe I could get the people at Babbling Beans to show me how they do the sugar globes,’ she said to Meri. ‘I mean, if his sister’s friend works there…’ She trailed off. Meri was frowning at her plate and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Lily. ‘What’s the matter?’

Meri looked up, her frown smoothing out a little. ‘Nothing.’

‘Yes, something's wrong with you,’ Lily persisted. ‘D’you not like snowstorm cakes or something? They’ve got normal cakes there too, you know—’

‘Lil, I like snowstorm cakes.’ Meri sounded halfway between amused and exasperated. ‘But it doesn’t matter, because I’m not coming.’

It was Lily’s turn to frown. ‘What? Why not?’

‘Oh my god, Lily.’ Meri rolled her eyes. ‘He wasn’t asking _me_. He was asking you. Only you.’

For a moment, Lily wasn’t sure what she was talking about, then it dawned. But that was nonsense, wasn’t it? _Zeke Davies?_ Asking her on a Hogsmeade date?

‘No, he wasn’t,’ she said, uncertainly. ‘He’s—I barely know him.’

Her eyes wandered after Davies, who was taking a seat at the Hufflepuff table with several other fifth years, all talking eagerly. He looked back at her and grinned, and Lily returned the smile, feeling somewhat disconcerted. Then all his friends turned and looked at her too, and she looked away hastily.

‘Well, that’s what a date’s for, isn’t it?’ said Meri, who had watched all this. ‘To get to know someone.’

‘It’s not a date, it’s—’ Lily turned to look properly at Meri. Something _was_ wrong with her. The frown was still hovering between her eyebrows, and she wouldn’t meet Lily’s eyes. ‘Are you upset with me?’

‘Why would I be upset with you?’ Meri picked up her goblet and rubbed at something—or nothing—on the rim. ‘Don’t you want to go on a date with him, then?’

The second question distracted Lily from the first, and she opened her mouth, closed it again, and paused, risking a glance over at Davies again. He wasn’t looking at her now, just laughing with his friends, so she could take him in a little bit more. He _was_ nice-looking, and he seemed like a nice guy too. And he liked her favourite cakes. So why not, really?

On the other hand, Meri was definitely being off about the whole thing, and Lily guessed why. She and Meri had always gone to Hogsmeade together—usually with a selection of their other friends too, but still. The others were a loose sort of circle, but Lily and Meri had been a pair ever since first year. It had never occurred to either of them ever to go with anyone else. Lily had been asked by boys a couple of times before, but she’d never really been tempted to say yes before. Boys could be cute, but dates had never seemed worth the trouble.

‘I don’t have to go with him,’ she said. ‘I can tell him I changed my mind. Maybe that’s not even what he meant, anyway—maybe he meant you too.’

Meri huffed out a laugh. ‘No, he really didn’t.’ She gave Lily a smile. ‘It’s okay. You should go if you want to. Zeke’s nice. And I’ll go with the others, it’s fine.’

Lily looked hard at her, her brow furrowing. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course, I’m sure.’ Meri elbowed her in the arm. ‘Hey, you have a _date_. That’s cool! What are you going to wear?’

When she thought about it like that, it _was_ quite cool—and a little exciting, even if she wasn’t sure exactly what she felt about Zeke Davies. But it wasn’t like she was looking for a _boyfriend_ anyway, so one date couldn’t hurt. Maybe by the end of an afternoon in Hogsmeade, she’d be feeling completely differently about him—and she’d get some good cake out of it, at least. Where was the harm?

*

Issie sat cross-legged on the deep window ledge of her dormitory, staring out at the rain that beat on the glass, blurring the rooftops and the dark, swaying trees. It felt safe here, at least, with Morgan curled on her lap and the thick stone walls surrounding her, and nobody else was here, so if they were talking about her again, at least she couldn’t hear them.

She folded the corners of the parchment in her hands absently, staring down at the words in her mum’s handwriting. The letter had arrived by owl at breakfast, and had briefly cheered her up after the argument with Antigone first thing. Dad had signed it too, but Mum had obviously written it, a long letter to make up for the fact that it had taken her a week to write it, which had been because of all the craziness of the Auror investigation.

It was all cheerful and reassuring, though, despite that. Mum hardly said anything about Issie being in Gryffindor, apart from hoping that she was happy and making friends, and, according to her, there was nothing about the investigation for any of them to worry about. Scorpius had said the same thing, and Issie wanted to believe them. A year or two ago, she probably would have, but now she was less sure. And anyway, it didn’t even matter what Issie believed, when everyone around her had clearly already decided what they thought. Antigone wasn’t the only one saying things, and Sam had avoided Issie all day.

‘Issie?’

She had hardly heard the door open, but she twisted around to see Sophie coming towards her.

‘Hey! I didn’t know where you were,’ Sophie went on, before Issie could speak. ‘Aren’t you coming to the common room? Everyone’s there.’

Issie stroked her hand down Morgan’s back, looking down at the little cat.

‘I dunno.’

There was a sudden nudge against her leg, and she glanced up to find Sophie unexpectedly climbing into the window ledge with her. There was plenty of room for two, but Issie moved her legs a little to the side, wondering exactly what Sophie wanted.

‘Aren’t _you_ going to the common room?’ she asked.

‘I was in the common room, but then I came looking for you,’ Sophie said. She settled into the window seat, her purple and yellow striped tights resting against Issie’s jeans. ‘You don’t need to take any notice of Antigone, you know.’

Issie gazed out of the window again, feeling tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. It was easy for Sophie to say things like that—everyone in Gryffindor liked her, from the others in their year to the older students she'd known all her life.

‘It’s not just her. Now Sam thinks I don’t like Muggle-borns or something. And _everyone_ thinks my mum had something to do with that girl being cursed.’

Even Sophie probably thought it, however nice she was being.

‘Sam knows you don't think that,’ Sophie said earnestly. ‘And Jake asked where you were. They don’t think you’re a bad person, Issie—I don’t think even Antigone thinks that, not really. You’re not your family.’

Issie turned to look at her. ‘But my family aren’t bad people either.’

There was a pause as Sophie bit her lip, looking troubled.

‘Okay. I mean, I don’t know them, but I believe you. I s’pose it’s just—well, you know. Bad things happened in the war. And I know that was ages ago, and—and everything’s different now, but people just remember that, and—’

She broke off, and there was a pause. Issie didn’t know what she ought to say. She knew that what Sophie said was true, must be true, but that was about all she knew. How could she tell Sophie that, though, or any of the rest of her tangled thoughts about it either? 

The truth was, she didn’t know what her dad—or her grandparents—had really done during the war, because they never talked about it. She didn’t properly know what Dad even thought of Muggle-borns, because he never talked about that either, although Scorpius’s best friend was an actual Muggle, and she came to the house sometimes, and Dad never said anything bad about her. On the other hand, Grandpa _did_ sometimes say bad things about Muggle-borns, but when Issie had asked Scorpius about that once, Scorpius had used some quite bad language to tell her that it was a load of rubbish. 

And then, she also didn’t really know whether her parents hadn't said anything about her being in Gryffindor because they were secretly angry and disappointed or because they didn’t mind. The silent weight of the things that her family didn’t tell her or say to her felt suffocating sometimes, but it wasn't because they didn't love her, it was just because they always thought she was too young for everything, which was frustrating, but still didn't make them bad people. Dad might not talk about things much, but he did other stuff for her instead. Like a few weeks ago, when they'd wanted her to have an owl like Scorpius, because owls were useful pets, but Issie had spotted Morgan and her siblings in the pet shop and begged for a kitten instead, and her dad—who had been in charge of the Diagon Alley trip, because Mum was so tired all the time—had just sighed and asked which one she wanted. Bad people didn't buy their children kittens.

But it was all too much, and impossible to explain to Sophie.

‘You should go and hang out with the others,’ was all she said at last, trying to keep her misery locked tightly inside her, so it didn’t show in her voice. ‘They want to be friends with you, not me.’

Sophie stretched out her legs until her feet hit the wall opposite her, folding her arms across her chest.

‘Well, I’m not going,’ she said.

Issie looked at her in surprise, because the way Sophie had just been talking, it had sounded like she didn’t quite believe Issie, whether she said she did or not.

‘I don’t care what sort of people your family are,’ Sophie went on. ‘I mean, if you say they’re nice, then great. You ought to know. But _you’re_ nice, and that’s the important thing. And, y’know, I think the others do want to be friends with you really—well, except Antigone maybe, but I bet she’ll get over it—but anyway. _I_ want to be friends, if you still do, and I’d rather hang out with you than all of them. So I’m staying here, okay?’


	5. Hogsmeade Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Hogsmeade visit brings a confrontation - and a theft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning in this chapter for a single line of casual homophobia, including a (mild, if there's any such thing) slur, which is called out in-text, and will be dealt with more thoroughly in future chapters.

Hogsmeade, Scorpius couldn’t help thinking, wasn’t quite as exciting as it had been three years before. It seemed smaller too; they’d walked half the length of the main street in five minutes, past Honeydukes—rammed with third-years on their first trip to the village—and the Post Office, on their way to the Three Broomsticks. At least the pub made a change of scenery from the common room, and Scorpius was looking forward to a butterbeer, but Calypso had stopped to look at the window of Scrivenshaft’s, looking for a new quill. She and Danny were discussing the merits of eagle feather quills as opposed to swan, and Scorpius’s attention wandered. It wasn’t exactly that he wasn’t interested, but he found it hard, in quiet moments, not to worry about things going on back home.

The door to the shop opened, and Scorpius glanced at it, then immediately swung around to stare intently into the window at nothing in particular as James Potter and Louis Weasley emerged, laughing and talking as loudly as usual.

Danny and Calypso both looked up, breaking off their conversation, but Scorpius kept his back turned, and for a moment he thought Potter and Weasley might walk past.

‘Hey, Malfoy, how’s it going?’ Potter’s voice said behind him, deceptively friendly.

Too much to hope for, apparently. And there was never any point trying to walk away from him. Scorpius sighed and turned around again.

‘Well, it was going a bit better before you came along,’ he said conversationally. He really couldn’t be bothered with Potter today—or any day, but somehow, any satisfaction Scorpius used to get from insult matches seemed to have disappeared recently.

Calypso let out a huff of laughter beside him, and Potter’s eyes narrowed.

‘Well, that’s a bit rude, isn’t it? How’s your mum, by the way? Any more kids Imperiused?’

Something unpleasant roiled in his gut, and Scorpius swallowed. He mustn’t react—that was what Potter wanted. And if he’d ignored it from Searle Nott, he could ignore it from James Potter, who spent his life bathing in his father’s reflected glory, as if he thought he was some kind of hero himself.

‘Oh, fuck off, Potter,’ Calypso broke in.

Potter smirked. ‘Oh, sorry. Hit a nerve, did I?’

‘Leave it, Cal,’ Scorpius muttered, as he felt, rather than saw, Calypso bristle beside him.

She subsided, but Danny did not.

‘You’d think the Aurors would have got whoever did it by now, wouldn’t you?’ he said. ‘I mean, it’s been, what, a month? And they haven’t even made an arrest. What do they even do all day down there, sit on their arses and compare hero stories?’

Potter’s smirk faded slightly, and his brows came down, but it was Weasley who spoke.

‘Bet you’d love it if that was true, wouldn’t you, Urquhart?’

‘What’s that meant to mean?’ Danny demanded.

‘Well, I heard your parents joined the League of Magic,’ Weasley said with a shrug. ‘Doubt they want the Aurors to investigate what they’re up to too closely, do they?’

Danny’s face darkened. ‘The League isn’t breaking any laws last time I checked, so you want to watch what you say, Weasley.’

Scorpius, looking at Danny, felt a small twinge of anxiety. He wasn’t really sure whether that was true or not, and he didn’t think Dan was either—and, illegal or not, the League of Magic disturbed him, and it didn’t really help to know that Louis Weasley probably knew even less about it than they did.

‘Right,’ Potter said, laughing. ‘A little pureblood club for wizarding traditions—nothing dodgy there at all.’ He looked at Scorpius. ‘Is your mum part of it too, Malfoy? I bet they’d love a bit of good, old-fashioned Muggle-baiting in the League. Real wizarding tradition right there.’

Scorpius felt his blood seething, the anxiety and anger of the past few weeks bubbling up through his veins. He grappled with himself.

‘Come on,’ he said to Danny and Calypso, through gritted teeth. ‘Let’s go. They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.’

It wasn’t worth a fight. It never was. He turned away without looking at Potter or Weasley, hoping the others would come with him.

‘Yeah, go on then,’ Weasley said from behind him. ‘Run away, because you know it’s true!’

‘Suck a dick, Weasley!’ Danny called back, half turning back even as he walked away, and a smirk twisted his face. ‘Oh, no, wait—we all know you’d enjoy that. Fucking Veela ponce—’

Potter’s hex hit Danny before he could finish the sentence, doubling him over as he coughed up green soap bubbles.

‘ _Protego!_ ’ Scorpius called, pulling his own wand just before Potter’s second hex—possible aimed at Scorpius himself—hit them. He took aim. ‘ _Exanthemia!_ ’

He was satisfied to see Potter stumble, a purple rash exploding on his hands, and he grabbed Danny by the elbow, hauling him upright again. Excited students spilled from nearby shops, drawn by the noise. Behind Potter and Weasley, the door to Scrivenshaft’s flew open, and Fenella Belby emerged, with Adam and Annabelle Carson behind her.

Scorpius hesitated, and Weasley, glancing around, also lowered the wand in his hand.

‘What the _hell_?’ the Head Girl demanded, glowering around her. Her eyes fell on Scorpius, and she looked as if she might be going to say something, but then she swung around to Potter. ‘You—’ She broke off whatever she’d been going to say, shaking her head. ‘You know what, I’m not even going to ask.’ She folded her arms. ‘Get out of here, everyone, before I decide to report you all.’

Scorpius didn’t need to be told again. Still holding onto Danny and trying not to make eye contact with any of their audience, he made for a small alley between two buildings. Calypso followed them in, and Scorpius pointed his wand at Danny and muttered a counter-jinx. Danny turned his head, coughed, retched a couple more times without bringing anything up, then wiped his mouth, recovering.

‘Fucking Potter,’ he muttered. ‘And Belby’ll never report him, even though he started it. Get away with everything when you’re mates with the Head Girl.’

‘Well, I fired a hex too,’ Scorpius pointed out, glancing over his shoulder.

He was annoyed to find that his hands were shaking slightly, and he wished he’d only cast the Shield Charm, instead of retaliating. Although he’d got off pretty lightly, really. He wasn’t sure whether the fact that he was a prefect had helped, or whether it had made Fenella more likely to be angry with him. He might find out at the next prefects’ meeting.

Danny looked at Calypso, who hadn’t even drawn her wand.

‘Thanks for the help,’ he said. ‘Or, y’know, not.’

She leaned against the stone wall of the building, her face strangely still.

‘You shouldn’t have said that, Dan,’ she said quietly.

Scorpius and Danny stared at her.

‘What?’ Danny said, uncertainly.

‘You know what. What you said to Weasley.’

She glanced at Scorpius, a question in her eyes, and he hesitated. He’d reacted automatically back there, because there hadn’t seemed to be much option, with Potter intent on hexing them all. But now that he thought about it, although Potter had definitely fired first, Danny had been asking for it at the end.

‘Yeah, she’s kind of right, Dan,’ he said. ‘That was a bit out of line.’

Danny folded his arms across his chest. ‘Well, he was fucking out of line too.’

‘Maybe he was.’ Calypso pushed herself off the wall again. ‘But not the same way you were.’ For a moment, she looked like she might say more, then she pressed her lips together and marched out of the alley.

Danny looked at Scorpius. ‘What’s got into her?’

Scorpius didn’t know what to say, or even quite what to think. He’d been on Danny’s side in that fight without thinking—or rather, Danny had been on his, because it had been him that Potter had wanted to have a go at. Danny had just been drawn into it, and that wasn’t his fault. They had each other’s backs; that was just how it was. But he couldn’t deny that Calypso had a point, although he was surprised she cared so much.

‘Come on,’ he said instead. ‘Let’s get a butterbeer. Take the taste of those soap bubbles away for you.’ He glanced at Danny, who still looked slightly shaken. ‘She’ll get over it.’

At least he hoped she would.

*

‘It’s so unfair,’ Sophie said despondently, lounging on her front on one of the common room couches. ‘When I come up here with my dad in the holidays, when he’s got work to do, he lets me go down to Hogsmeade if I want. What do they think’s going to happen to us?’

‘What even is there in Hogsmeade?’ Jake Nelson asked, perching on the arm on Sophie’s couch. ‘Is it good?’

Issie sat and listened, curled into an armchair beside them, as Sophie started talking enthusiastically about Honeydukes and butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. The three of them had, briefly, been working on their Potions homework together, but not much of it had got done before the conversation veered off. Issie had never been to Hogsmeade herself, and she’d have liked to go, but the rules were strict, and there didn’t seem to be any obvious way to get around them.

‘We should do something else fun,’ she suggested, as Sophie paused for breath. ‘Since we can’t go to Hogsmeade.’

Sophie sighed. ‘Like what?’

Issie considered this. They could go down and get some brooms out, because there was no Quidditch practice on Hogsmeade day, so they’d be allowed, but Sophie wasn’t really that keen on flying, or that good at it.

‘We could explore somewhere in the castle we’ve never been,’ she said. ‘Don’t you know places, from coming here with your dad?’

‘I heard there are secret rooms and passages and stuff here,’ Jake said, brightening.

Sophie twisted one of her braids around her finger, frowning thoughtfully. ‘There are, but I don’t know where. Dad never tells us how to find anything.’

Jake leaned over to the wall behind the couch and knocked on it, holding his ear to the wooden panelling. ‘If there’s a passage behind, it sounds hollow,’ he said, knowledgeably.

‘Well, does it?’ Issie asked. It didn’t seem very likely that Jake would find a secret passage behind the very first piece of wall he tried, but you never knew—and it _would_ be fun to find one.

Jake’s forehead scrunched. ‘I dunno. Maybe. What does hollow sound like?’ He hopped up from his seat and tapped at another spot, several feet away. ‘It sounds exactly the same over here,’ he said, seeming disappointed.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ a voice said from behind Issie’s chair, sounding half amused and half curious.

Issie twisted to look and found herself face to face with a small group of people she thought were all second-years. Two of them—a fair-haired boy and a girl with a long, dark ponytail—were the same two she’d first seen on the very first night, the two that the Head Girl had seemed to be warning about giving out the common room password. The boy was a Finnigan, she knew that because Sophie knew him, although she’d never learnt the girl’s name. However, it seemed like Fenella Belby’s warning that first day had been justified, because Issie was fairly sure that the other three in the group were not Gryffindors at all.

Sophie sat up, beaming at them. ‘Oh, hello! What are you all doing here?’ she asked, then her smile faded slightly. ‘Are you meant to be here?’

If Sophie knew them, then at least some of them must be more children of famous heroes. Issie hugged her knees to her chest and huddled back into the chair as they crowded around. A tall girl with brown hair flopped onto the couch beside Sophie, and another with a mass of tight, black braids seated herself on the arm that Jake had vacated.

The girl on the sofa grinned at Sophie. ‘We’re never meant to be here, but the great thing about Hogsmeade day is that nobody’s here to stop us.’ She looked around inquiringly at Jake and Issie. ‘I’m Lucy, by the way. Lucy Weasley.’

A Weasley. There were lots of them, but they hadn’t taken much avoiding, up to now. The ones in Gryffindor were all older than Issie, fourth or fifth year at least, and didn’t take much notice of first-years, except to say hello to Sophie sometimes, because Sophie knew them all, it seemed.

‘I’m Jake Nelson,’ Jake said.

The other second-years introduced themselves: The girl with the braids was Matilda Thomas, although she said to call her Tilly, the Finnigan boy was Pádraig, the Gryffindor girl’s name was Artemis Loach, and the final boy, who was round-faced and plump, and dressed slightly surprisingly in a t-shirt with a sequinned octopus on it, was Max Bailley. When they’d finished, Lucy Weasley looked at Issie.

‘I know who you are,’ she said with interest. ‘You’re Iseult Malfoy, aren’t you?’

Issie nodded, unsure what to say, and Jake broke in again.

‘You’re not all in Gryffindor, are you?’

‘Nope,’ Tilly Thomas said cheerfully. ‘I’m a Ravenclaw, and Lucy and Max are both Hufflepuffs.’

‘We used to come in here all the time,’ Max added. ‘But we got caught by prefects a couple of times last term, so now we stick to Hogsmeade days.’

‘Anyway, what _were_ you doing?’ Lucy Weasley asked Jake. ‘Listening to the walls?’

‘Looking for secret passages,’ Jake told her. ‘Only I don’t know how to find them.’

Lucy’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Hm. You’re looking in the wrong place, for a start. I don’t think there are any in here.’

‘D’you know any?’ Sophie asked. ‘I was trying to think if I did, but all I can really think of is the one from the Room of Requirement to the Hog’s Head, and I don’t even know how to find the Room of Requirement, because Dad always says if we really have to break rules, we’ve got to work out how to do it ourselves. I don’t even know if the passage is there anymore. Anyway, we couldn’t go to the Hog’s Head.’

‘Why not?’ Pádraig asked, grinning. ‘Bet it’d be fun there.’

Sophie looked scandalised. ‘The Hog’s Head is _super_ shady…’ she started.

‘Oh, stop it, Pádraig ,’ Lucy said impatiently. ‘We’re not going to the Hog’s Head. For one thing, Hogsmeade is full of teachers and prefects today, so that’s the last place we’d want to go. Anyway, I don’t know how to get there, and I’m pretty sure none of you do either. But we might be able to get to other places. I don’t know where the passages are, but I know who does—my cousin, James.’

‘But James isn’t here,’ Sophie objected. ‘He’s in Hogsmeade. And I bet he wouldn’t tell us, anyway.’

‘No,’ Lucy agreed. ‘But James only knows them because he’s got a map. And I bet he hasn’t got the map with him in Hogsmeade.’

Issie looked from face to face. Both Artemis and Pádraig ’s faces had lit up with delight. Tilly Thomas’s eyes had narrowed, as if she was running through possibilities in her head. Sophie looked worried.

In some ways, Issie would have preferred it to have been just her, Sophie and Jake. They were her friends—at least, she thought Jake counted as a friend too—but she didn’t know these second-years, who had just come in and taken over, with their slightly alarming-sounding ideas.

On the other hand, Sophie knew them, and not one of them had so much as looked at Issie in an unfriendly way. And a map of the secret passages in the school sounded exciting, even if it belonged to James Potter.

‘He’s probably hidden it,’ Tilly said, slowly. ‘Or locked it up.’

‘Worth a try, though, isn’t it?’ said Pádraig. ‘I mean, his dorm’ll be empty right now.’

‘Should we, though?’ Sophie said, full of doubt. ‘He'll be really angry, Lucy.’

‘Well, it’s only James.’ Lucy shrugged. ‘Anyway, we’ll just borrow it, and he’ll never know. Nobody’ll be back from Hogsmeade for hours—we can put it back before he even realises it’s gone.’ She pushed herself up from the couch and looked around, her eyes bright. ‘Who’s in?’

There was general agreement from the second-years and from Jake. Issie looked at Sophie, who was hesitating. But Lucy was right—the older students would be gone all afternoon. And with the way James Potter had talked to Scorpius, that first day at breakfast, he deserved to have his map stolen.

‘How do we get it?’ she asked.

Lucy grinned. ‘Well, first thing is to find it.’ She looked at Sophie, who still seemed to be wavering. ‘Come on, Sophie! You know about that map—think about what we can do with it!’

Sophie sighed. ‘Fine, then. But don't blame me if James finds out and hexes us all.’

‘Some people should probably stay down here and keep a look-out,’ Tilly suggested. ‘Lucy, you should go, you know what to look for. And Pádraig and what’s-your-name, Jake, so you can make up an excuse for being in the boys’ dorms if anyone sees you.’

‘Can I come?’ Issie asked. Now that she had made up her mind, if there was an exciting plan to carry out, she wanted to help, especially if it involved getting some pay-back on Scorpius’s enemy.

Lucy Weasley looked at her, her eyebrows raised. ‘Okay, if you want to,’ she said, sounding a bit surprised. ‘Come on, then.’

With everyone older than second year down at Hogsmeade, the common room was almost empty, and nobody took any notice of the little group of four as they headed up the stairs towards the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories.

‘Seventh-years are on the top floor,’ said Pádraig, as he took the lead with Lucy.

Issie found herself at the back, following the others up the spiral stair that was a mirror image of the one for the girls at the other side of the common room. Her heart pounded breathlessly as they ascended, and she wasn’t sure if it was the steepness of the stairs or nerves. Were they breaking rules by being here? Maybe not, but what they were planning on doing definitely was—and Lucy could say ‘it’s only James’ like that, because he was her cousin, but Issie didn’t quite like to think of what would happen if he found out.

Jake turned back over his shoulder and grinned at her. ‘A map of secret passages!’ he whispered, eyes wide. ‘We could go anywhere!’

Issie pushed her nervousness aside. They wouldn’t get caught. Nobody was here. It was alright.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, there were no more steps ahead of them, only a doorway opening into a central landing area, with four other doors leading off it.

‘There's nobody in them, is there?’ Jake asked.

‘Course not,’ Lucy said, but she hesitated a moment before knocking loudly on the first one. ‘Just in case,’ she muttered over her shoulder.

There was no answer, and, after a moment’s pause, Lucy pushed the door open and scanned over the room, her eyes narrowed.

‘Mm. I don’t think it’s his.’

Pádraig, closest to the next door, pushed it open, not bothering to knock, and Lucy peered past him.

‘Okay. This is the one,’ she said decisively. ‘That’s his bed there.’

They crept into the room, and Issie wrinkled her nose. It smelt strongly of what Issie would call simply _boy_ , deodorant and unwashed trainers and various other things she’d rather not know about. Scorpius’s room at home was similar, although there was only one of him, so it wasn’t as bad. There were six beds in this dormitory, all the curtains pulled back to reveal various states of messiness. None of the seventh-year boys believed in making their beds, apparently.

‘Which one?’ whispered Pádraig.

‘This one,’ Lucy said, walking over to the third bed down and pointing to a battered Quidditch poster above it, of a team in brown and russet stripes. ‘Barnstaple Bears. I don’t know anyone who supports them except James. Anyway, that’s his jumper on the floor.’

Issie looked up at the poster. She did not know of anyone else who supported the Barnstaple Bears either, mainly because they were barely a real Quidditch team. They played in the secondary league, and it was surprising that James Potter would support them, when his mum had played for the Holyhead Harpies. 

‘Where would he put it?’ Pádraig asked.

‘In here, maybe,’ Lucy said, pulling open the top one in a chest of drawers and rummaging around among the socks there. ‘Or under his mattress or something. He’d want to hide it.’

She hunted through the drawers and the bedside cabinet, and the others did their best to lift the mattress far enough to look underneath it, but they found nothing except a tin of fudge that Lucy located in the cabinet. This she pulled out and shook, before thoughtfully opening it, taking a piece and offering it to the others. Pádraig took one immediately, and, after a moment’s hesitation, so did Jake.

‘Won’t he notice it’s gone?’ Issie said.

‘Probably, but he’ll never know it was us,’ Lucy pointed out.

Lucy Weasley, Issie thought, as she took a piece herself and bit into it, was a bit of a surprising Hufflepuff.

‘What about his trunk?’ Pádraig suggested, crouching to look under the bed.

‘Must be,’ Lucy agreed. ‘Unless he’s hidden it somewhere weird.’

They pulled the trunk out, and Lucy pointed her wand at the padlock attached to the front.

‘ _Alohomora._ ’ The padlock rattled gently, but didn’t open, and Lucy scowled. ‘Ugh. He’s got an anti-unlocking spell on it.’

‘Well, there wouldn’t be much point in a padlock without one,’ Pádraig pointed out, examining the rest of the trunk. ‘But how do we get it out then?’

‘Can’t you do that summoning charm thing?’ Jake suggested.

‘I don’t think it works through an Anti-Alohomora charm either,’ Lucy said gloomily. ‘Anyway, we haven’t learnt it yet.’

Issie, like Pádraig, was looking at the rest of the trunk. She poked at the large metal hinges at the back.

‘What about transfiguration? If you transfigured the whole trunk, it would change whatever’s inside it too, but if you just did the hinges, then we could open it from the other side.’

The others looked at her with respect.

‘That’s genius,’ said Pádraig admiringly.

Issie felt her face grow hot. ‘It might not work,’ she pointed out. ‘I don’t know what you can turn them into—'

‘I think I’ve got an idea,’ Lucy said. ‘Hold on.’ She pointed her wand again. ‘ _Chartafors_ ,’ she announced confidently.

Issie watched as the slightly discoloured metal transformed, becoming paler and thinner, curling at the edges. Paper. Lucy had transfigured the metal hinges into paper, and she reached out and easily tore through them. Pádraig pulled at the other side, and, between them, they hauled the hinge end open.

There was a whole jumble of objects in the bottom of the trunk. Odd socks, crumpled parchment, a few books, and a Muggle magazine, which Pádraig picked up and then dropped as though it had burned him when he saw the practically naked young woman posing on the front.

Lucy lifted a piece of parchment and turned it over.

‘I think this is it,’ she said in a hushed tone.

‘But there’s nothing on it,’ Pádraig protested.

‘No. You have to—’ Lucy broke off and frowned, clearly thinking hard. ‘I was there the day James took it, and I saw him show Louis and the others, but it was years ago. I’m just trying to remember the right words.’

‘What d’you mean, ‘took it’?’ Jake asked. ‘Took it from where?’

‘It’s Uncle Harry’s,’ Lucy said, still staring at the parchment. ‘James stole it out of his desk. I s’pose Uncle Harry never noticed—it’s not like he ever comes to Hogwarts.’

Something about that news made the whole thing seem a bit different, although Issie wasn’t sure whether it made it worse or better. On one hand, the map was already stolen property, so stealing it again—or borrowing; they weren’t really stealing it—wasn’t so bad. On the other hand, _James_ Potter was scary enough—she now knew that the map belonged to his dad, the most famous person in the Wizarding World. What would Harry Potter say if he knew what they were doing? Especially if he knew that Iseult Malfoy was involved?

‘I think I’ve got it,’ Lucy said at last, interrupting Issie’s thoughts, and tapped the map with her wand. ‘I swear that I am up to mischief!’

Jake laughed at this, then broke off as writing began to appear on the map, line by curly line.

_Mister Moony presents his compliments for that excellent attempt, which was so close for a first try that he wonders whether it was more than just guesswork._

_Mister Wormtail would like to offer his encouragement and suggests that the Mischief-Maker try again._

_Mister Padfoot suspects that he is addressing a practical joker and advises them to try a little more SOLEMNLY next time._

_Mister Prongs wishes the aspiring miscreant the best of luck in finding exactly the right phrase, since the wrong words are NO GOOD at all._

Issie stared in fascination as the words appeared. She didn’t understand them at all, and, from their faces, neither did the boys, but a grin slowly grew on Lucy’s face.

‘It’s giving us clues,’ she said. ‘I remember now.’ She held her wand to the parchment again, and said clearly: ‘I _solemnly_ swear that I am up to _no good_.’

The writing changed, and new words spread across the parchment.

 _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present… THE MARAUDER'S MAP_.

And then it faded and in its place an intricate web of thin lines appeared.

‘Wow,’ Issie breathed as the map came into view.

‘Who are those people?’ asked Jake. ‘Those… Moony and Wormfoot and the others.’

‘I don't know,’ Lucy admitted. ‘I'm not sure they're real people. James said that Uncle Harry's dad made it.’ She tucked the map under her arm so that she could use her wand to repair the torn paper hinges and turn them back to metal again, and then she glanced around herself. ‘Come on, let’s go back to the others.’

They hurried down the stairs much faster and more noisily than they had come up, finding it hard not to giggle. They’d done it. They’d got the map, and now they could go anywhere.

The others, sitting around on the sofa and armchairs where they’d left them, looked up expectantly as they came into the common room again.

‘Did you find it?’ Artemis demanded in an expectant whisper. ‘Where is it?’

Lucy produced the map and laid it on a low table, and they all crowded around it in a circle, close enough to hide what they were doing from anyone else in the room.

‘Whoa!’ said Max delightedly. ‘That’s cool!’

‘What are those dots moving around?’ Sophie peered closely at it. ‘They've all got names on them. Are they people?’

‘They're all the people in the castle,’ Lucy said. ‘Look, there’s us. And you can see everyone else too. Even Professor Morrison in his office,’ she added with a giggle, pointing at the figure of the headmaster, whom they rarely saw, as he only taught the odd advanced NEWT class, and seemed to leave everything else to Professor Clearwater.

Issie rested her chin in her hands and gazed at the map. ‘There’s a secret passage,’ she said, pointing. ‘But it says it goes to Hogsmeade, and that’s where everyone is.’

‘Don’t any of the passages go anywhere else?’ Jake sounded very disappointed.

‘That one goes to the Shrieking Shack, but we’d have to get past the Whomping Willow,’ said Tilly, leaning closer. ‘Anyone know how?’

Nobody did, but when they looked closer, they could see quite a lot of hidden passages and stairways that led from one part of the castle to another.

‘We can explore, at least,’ Max suggested.

It was as good a plan as any, and they spent the afternoon discovering hidden entries and password-protected doors, many of which the map provided the passwords for, entering a stair in one part of the castle and popping out in another, dodging the odd teacher patrolling the corridors.

At one point they found themselves about to emerge from a small passage, into a corridor near the Slytherin common room, when Lucy, at the front with the map, paused.

‘Wait!’ she hissed, holding a hand out to stop them in their tracks. ‘People coming.’

They waited, trying not to breathe too loudly. It wasn’t their first close encounter, but the voices didn’t sound like students their own age, or quite like teachers. Issie, right behind Lucy, thought there was something familiar about at least one of them, and she peered around Lucy’s arm at the map, lit by Lumos spells from the second-years’ wands. She was right about who it was, but she hardly had time to be either surprised or alarmed before the voices were close enough to make out words.

‘Look, this better be worth it,’ said one voice, the less familiar one. ‘We could be in Hogsmeade right now.’

‘Shut up,’ said the one she’d recognised. ‘Who cares about Hogsmeade? We’ve been there a million times. This is important.’

‘Well, like I say…’

The voices passed them, rounded a corner and faded. They waited a few moments longer, then Lucy carefully pushed open the secret panel and they scrambled out.

‘Who were those?’ Tilly asked, breathlessly.

‘Slytherins,’ Lucy said. ‘Seventh-years, I think.’

‘Sixth-years,’ Issie corrected her. ‘Searle Nott and somebody Avery, right?’

‘Darius Avery,’ Lucy said, looking at the map. ‘They’re heading towards the Entrance Hall. D’you know them then, Iseult?’

Issie shrugged, almost wishing she hadn’t said anything. The afternoon had been so much fun, and everyone had been nice, treating her exactly like anyone else. It had begun to feel like they were friends, not just Sophie and Jake, but even the second-years. She didn’t want to remind them who she was. But Lucy didn’t sound suspicious, only curious, so maybe it was alright.

‘Sort of,’ she said warily. ‘They’re in my brother’s year. He’s not really friends with them, though.’

‘Searle Nott’s Weylin Nott’s brother,’ Tilly said. ‘You know, that Slytherin guy in our year.’

‘What are they doing here, though?’ Artemis said, frowning. ‘I thought all the older ones were in Hogsmeade.’

Lucy shrugged. ‘Who knows? Who cares? They’ve gone now. And if we go down here, and then up another corridor, we’ll get to the kitchens. Who wants food?’

Boredom was banished for the afternoon. With the map, there was endless entertainment, and time passed too quickly. Eventually they headed back towards the Gryffindor common room, but they’d left it a bit too late. By the time they got there, intending to return the map, they had met more than one group of older students coming back from Hogsmeade, and, as they reached the Portrait Hole, they heard more voices.

‘Quick!’ hissed Lucy. ‘One of you take it!’

She shoved the map at Issie, who happened to be the nearest Gryffindor to her, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Issie shoved the map into the deep front pocket of her hoodie. A moment later, two older girls came around the corner, and one of them stopped and frowned as she passed them. She was plump, with dark red, curly hair and pale, freckled skin, and she wore a prefect’s badge on her chest.

‘What are you doing here, Lucy?’ she asked.

‘Hello, Moll,’ said Lucy cheerfully, ignoring the question. ‘How was Hogsmeade?’

The girl narrowed her eyes and glanced at the group around Lucy.

‘It was fine. Well, actually, there was a fight, but never mind that. You’d better not have been in our common room again, though, Lucy. You know they said you couldn’t do that anymore.’

‘Well, there’s no rule stopping me from being outside the Portrait Hole,’ Lucy said, impatiently.

‘What fight?’ Pádraig demanded at the same time. ‘Who was it?’

‘It wasn’t really a fight.’ The second girl’s dark eyes flicked over the group of them as she broke in. ‘Just some people throwing hexes.’

The first girl, whom Issie had finally identified as Molly Weasley, one of Lucy’s many relatives and possibly even her sister, opened her mouth, looking like she might be about to argue with that, then caught her friend’s eye and shut it again.

‘Come on,’ Molly’s friend—who was also vaguely familiar, although Issie couldn’t place her—went on. ‘I want to finish my Divination homework, and I’ve got Quidditch practice in the morning.’ She gave a small smile in their direction. ‘See you, Lucy.’

‘Bye, Angharad.’ Lucy smiled as if she’d done nothing wrong in her life. ‘Bye, Moll.’

Lucy waited until the two older girls had gone, and then turned back to the others.

‘Well, _we_ can't go in there now; Molly'll just kick us out again. One of you’ll have to put it back in James’s stuff.’ She grinned around at them all. ‘Worth it, though, right? Let’s do it again sometime. See you guys later!’

She, Max and Tilly departed towards their own common rooms, and the Gryffindors turned to go in through the Portrait Hole. Inside, though, it was obvious that there was no way they could go up to the seventh-year boys’ dormitories at that moment. Lots of the older students were back, and they’d get spotted for sure.

They looked at each other.

‘We’ll try again tomorrow,’ Pádraig whispered. ‘Maybe when they’ve got Quidditch practice—James’ll be busy then.’ He looked at Issie. ‘You okay keeping it until then?’

Issie hesitated. Being entrusted with James Potter’s map—well, actually Harry Potter’s map—felt like a big responsibility. But after all, there was no way for James Potter to know she had it, or even much reason for him to realise it had gone. And anyway, there were a few things she’d quite like to check on it. She nodded.

‘Alright. So long as we put it back tomorrow.’

*

James scratched idly at the remains of Malfoy’s hex on his forearm and stared at the tin on his bedside table, his forehead furrowing, distracted from preparations for bed. Had he left it there? It was possible, of course, but he didn’t think he had. He picked it up and opened it, his scowl growing.

He might have left the tin of fudge on his bedside table, but he definitely hadn’t eaten that much of it. Which of his dormmates had been casually stealing food? The scratch of annoyance was made worse by the painful, itchy patches still on his arms, and by the whole incident of the afternoon. Exchanging insults with Malfoy had lost its fun with the words that had been flung at Louis, which hadn’t been amusing at all, even if he hadn’t let Urquhart finish them. Louis might pretend to shrug that sort of thing off, but James knew him better than that. And to cap it all Fenella was annoyed with him, even though they’d told her what had been said, because she’d pointed out—irritatingly right, as usual—that James had started things before Urquhart had said anything at all.

‘Hey, who’s been helping themselves to fudge?’ he asked the room in general.

Louis, already in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt with a faded skull-and-crossbones on it, glanced up from where he was reading a comic on his bed.

‘Don’t look at me,’ he said, raising his eyebrows.

Adam was in the bathroom, and Douglas had already pulled the curtains pointedly around his bed, but the other two both shook their heads and claimed not to have touched it. James put the tin back down with some force and turned away, still scowling, only to stub his toe against the corner of his trunk.

He swore and sat down heavily on his bed.

Louis grinned. ‘Alright there?’

James didn’t answer immediately. As the pain eased, he was staring at the trunk jutting out from under the bed, suspicion growing. It hadn’t been like that this morning. He glanced up. Only Louis was paying any attention to him, and anyway he found it hard to believe that any of his dormmates would have been messing around with his stuff. For one thing, he kept his trunk locked, because of what was inside it.

Bending down, he hauled the trunk out from under his bed and cast the right charm on the lock to open it. 

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Louis asked, staring at him.

‘Checking something,’ James muttered, kneeling beside the trunk and pulling it open.

Nobody could have been inside, could they? Even if they’d tried, the lock had been intact. He was being paranoid because of the missing fudge. All the same, he sifted carefully through the things there. He looked once, alarm setting in when he didn’t find the most precious item. He looked again. It definitely wasn’t there.

‘James? What’s the matter?’

Louis’s legs and bare feet appeared beside him, and James looked up. Louis knew what he kept locked inside his trunk.

‘It’s gone,’ he said, as low as he could.

Louis blinked. ‘It can’t have. Didn’t you lock it?’ He crouched beside James.

‘Of course, I locked it,’ James said impatiently. ‘But look for yourself. It’s gone. Someone’s taken the map.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who's reading and for all the comments etc., i appreciate every single one!


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James launches an investigation, Calypso has a surprise for her friends, and Issie gets bad news.

‘Okay, but are you sure it was definitely in your trunk?’ Fenella asked from the armchair opposite James, lifting her eyes from her Astronomy notes.

‘Where else would it be?’ James said. ‘I haven’t even used it this year.’

‘So, you could have left it at home?’

‘No, I know it was there when I unpacked,' he said, stubbornly. 'Anyway, someone had definitely been in my stuff—’

‘And stolen your fudge, right. But who would do that? Are you sure—’

‘Look, don’t believe me if you don’t want to,’ James said. ‘But I know someone was there. And now the map’s gone, and I need to get it back.’

‘Who d’you think would have taken it?’ Annabelle asked, laying her own homework aside and stretched her legs across his from where she sat beside him on the squishiest of the Gryffindor sofas.

It was Sunday, and a lazy mood had descended on everyone after the excitement of the first Hogsmeade day. Adam, Annabelle’s twin, was doodling on his parchment and listening to James and Fenella debate, instead of finishing the essay he’d been working on, and Louis was sprawled on a cushion on the floor, not even pretending to work. James, only moving his arms to rest them on top of Annabelle’s legs, thought about her question, which was a good one. He had no immediate answer to it.

‘Who else even knows about it?’ Louis broke in, before James could come up with any ideas. ‘I mean, us, obviously, but none of us is going to have taken it. The other guys in the dorm know you've got it by now. And probably most of the family, right? Anyone else?’

‘I don't know,’ James said slowly, running over that relatively short list of people in his mind. ‘I don’t think any of the guys would take it, though. They know I’d let them borrow it if they wanted. It probably is a Gryffindor, though—I mean someone else _could_ have got in, but they’d have needed someone to help them.’

‘So, one of your cousins then?’ Adam put in, raising his eyebrows.

That did seem the most likely option. They all knew about the map, and James suspected that most of them knew he had it, even if his dad had never cottoned on. A lot of them probably also knew enough about it to be able to use it, too.

‘Probably,’ he acknowledged. ‘Although I suppose any of them could have told someone else. I mean, I’m pretty sure Saffy Jordan knows about it, for example.’

Louis grinned. ‘Maybe she and Al teamed up. Looking for places they can shag in private.’

‘Like Al has enough game to do that.’ James pulled a face. ‘He’d be shocked at the suggestion. Our spotless family prefect.’

He glanced over at the other side of the common room, where Albus was ensconced on another sofa, with Saffy curled against his side. That was still a couple that made no sense to him—Saffy was full of fun and laughter, and Al was, frankly, a boring bookworm. If either of them was likely to be interested in a map of secret passages, he couldn’t imagine it being Al. But he couldn’t actually see either of them sneaking up to his dorm to hunt through his things.

Louis sat up, laughing, his eyes wandering around the common room. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Even Al must have a sex drive. But fine. If it wouldn’t be him, it definitely wouldn’t be Molly—unless she took it just so she could put it back in Uncle Harry’s desk and stop you from breaking rules. I would suggest Lily, but I don’t think she was doing any sneaking around Gryffindor Tower yesterday. According to Hugo, she was too busy snogging Zeke Davies round the back of Babbling Beans—’

This distracted James from the map for a moment. ‘She was _what?_ Who the fuck is Zeke Davies?’

‘Some Hufflepuff fifth year,’ Louis told him.

Annabella giggled. ‘Are you getting protective, James?’

‘No.’ James scowled at her. ‘I just didn’t know she even had a boyfriend.’ _Zeke Davies_. James had never heard of him, but he thought he might have to try finding out something about him.

‘I don’t know if she has,’ Louis said. ‘Hugo said it was the first time they’d been out.’

‘Wait, it was a _first date_?’ James stared at him in horror. ‘And she’s already snogging the guy’s face off? What the fuck?’ He broke off, because Adam was grinning, and the others had dissolved into outright laughter. ‘What? I’m just saying—’

‘You can’t say _anything_ ,’ Fenella interrupted. ‘Not with your record.’

James glowered at them. ‘We’re not talking about me. She’s fourteen—’

‘Nearly fifteen,’ Louis put in.

‘She’s fourteen,’ James repeated, ignoring him. ‘And she’s never even had a boyfriend before. I don’t think,’ he added, for the sake of honesty. He didn’t really see how she’d have hidden that though, when she lived in the same tower as him. Lily wasn't known for being good at secrets.

‘Well, blame Hugo,’ said Louis cheerfully. ‘Apparently he’s been feeding the guy intel on Lily’s favourite cakes, and that’s how he got the date. At least, that’s the story Hugo’s sticking to. He’s dead pleased with himself.’

‘He would be,’ James said, but he was already pushing Lily and her disturbing new habits out of his mind. ‘Anyway, that doesn’t help us. It wouldn’t have been Lily—she’s not sneaky enough. And it has to have been someone who could get through my Anti-Alohomora charm _and_ put it back on again afterwards, well enough to look like nobody’d been there, and I don’t think Lily could do that.’

He let his eyes wander around the common room, just as the Portrait Hole opened, and Rose came in with Emmy Brooke, both of them heading towards Al and Saffy, who didn’t look very pleased with the interruption. He looked at Louis, who had followed his gaze, and he knew immediately that Louis was having the same thoughts he was.

Rose was the obvious suspect. If anyone could dismantle his charms without leaving a trace, it was her, and she knew as much about the map as Al did. Before Hogwarts, they’d been a foursome, James, Louis, Rose and Al, all born within fifteen months of each other, and they’d all been there the day his dad had first shown them it, when James had begged to take it to Hogwarts with him and been refused. And Rose wouldn’t have the smallest worry about going through his things for it, if she’d decided she wanted the map for some reason.

The only flaw in that theory was that Rose wasn’t very likely to leave accidental clues, like the missing fudge or the way his trunk had been sticking out from his bed. Then again, maybe those had been deliberate taunts, which also didn’t seem beyond Rose.

‘Why would she want it, though?’ Louis mused.

‘Who?’ Annabelle asked, then followed their eyes. ‘Oh. Yeah, that’s not a bad guess.’

‘It definitely could have been her,’ James said slowly. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, although he didn’t have an answer for Louis. ‘I don’t know why she’d take it, but who else is that likely? Maybe she’s got a secret boyfriend herself, and she’s looking for places she can meet him without getting spotted. I wouldn’t know.’

Louis spluttered with laughter. ‘Rose, secretly in love? You’re joking, right?’

James grinned despite himself. ‘You never know. There must be some feelings under there somewhere. But no. Point is, I don’t know anything about her life—she could have a bunch of reasons for wanting the map, and we’d never know.’

‘How are you going to find out?’ Adam asked. ‘Go through her stuff in return?’

James thought about it, his eyes fixed on his cousin, who was laughing with the other sixth years, completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.

‘No,’ he said, regretfully. ‘If she’s got it, she’d never hide it where I could find it. She’s too good for that. And it might not even be her.’ He turned back to the others, who were all watching him, and grinned at them. ‘The only way to find out is to out-Rose Rose. So, listen up, because I’ve got a plan.’

*

Scorpius wasn’t quite sure whether Calypso would actually meet them in the common room on Monday morning. Her bad mood with Danny had lasted all weekend, and it seemed to have extended to Scorpius too. On Sunday, she had gone off to the library after lunch, saying she had an essay to write, and hadn’t come back for hours. Even when she’d been around, she’d barely spoken to either of them all day.

She was there ahead of them, though, perched on the arm of a chair and waiting for them, although she looked no happier than she had done the day before. She didn’t look as if she’d slept very well, and Scorpius couldn’t help wondering whether there was something else going on with her, unrelated to the fight on Saturday.

‘You think she’s still in a mood?’ Danny muttered as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Scorpius shrugged. ‘We’ll find out.’

‘I don’t know what she expects me to say—’ Danny broke off as they came within earshot.

Calypso looked up, but she said nothing as they approached.

‘Morning,’ Scorpius said, a little warily.

‘Hey.’ Calypso didn’t smile, but stood up, ready to walk with them, although she looked more at the floor than she did at either of them.

'Cal, wait.' Danny reached for her arm, stopping her.

She whipped back around and pulled her arm away from him.

‘Let go of me!’

He did, but stayed where he was, shoulders squared determinedly, and she stared back at him, expressionless.

‘Look, I don’t know what you want me to say, Cal. I’m sorry for saying that to Weasley. But you know I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, I’m not, y’know, homophobic or anything.’

‘Aren’t you?’ Calypso said, her tone neutral.

‘No!’ Danny spread his hands helplessly. ‘Merlin, my _uncle’s_ gay, and I’ve never had a problem with that, even though some people in my family do. It was just Weasley—He was having a go at me, so I had a go back. And I shouldn’t have used that, I get it, but it was just a stupid joke. I don’t care whether he fancies guys, or girls, or fucking grindylows!’

He paused for breath, and in the silence, Calypso breathed two words:

‘I’m gay.’

There was silence. They stared at her, and she stared back, her face pinched and her dark eyes wide. For a beat or two, Scorpius thought he might have misheard, or misunderstood, or _something_. But a glance at Danny’s face showed him his own shock reflected back.

‘What?’ Danny said, at last.

‘I’m gay,’ she repeated, a bit more forcefully. ‘I’m a lesbian. As in, I like girls, not guys, or grindylows. And your _stupid joke_ wasn’t funny.’ She looked from one of them to the other. ‘You know, I’m not actually that hungry. You guys go for breakfast. I’ll… I’ll see you later, or something.’

She turned away from them, back towards the armchair where she’d been waiting, and sank into it, pulling her knees up to her chest. Scorpius looked again at Danny, who seemed to have frozen, and, with some effort, freed his own tongue.

‘Cal,’ he said slowly, looking for some words that were somehow the right ones. ‘Are you—’

Calypso looked at him, and his question died on his tongue, because he’d been going to ask, _‘Are you serious?’_ and one look at her face told him that she absolutely was. But how could that be true? How could they have been friends with her for five years and not _known_ that? Alright, she’d never had a boyfriend, but she wasn’t the only person not to have gone out with anyone by sixth year. She’d never talked about girls, she’d never—His mind stumbled over those thoughts, because what else _could_ she have done to give it away? 

She was waiting for him to say something, and, as he met her eyes, he saw the nervousness in them. Calypso was never nervous. She was collected and certain and in control. He’d never seen her like this before. How long had she been sitting on this, waiting to tell them?

‘Well, that’s—Wow,’ he said, then realised that she was still looking at him, and that he wasn’t helping very much, fumbling for words like that. He moved to the chair opposite hers and perched on the edge of the seat. ‘Well, I’m glad you told us, okay?’ he said, more firmly. ‘That—that must have been hard.’

‘I—So, you’re—you’re okay with it, then?’ she asked, quietly.

It gave him a sort of creeping, cold feeling inside that she even needed to ask that question. That he hadn’t acted in a way that made it obvious. He didn't think he'd ever used careless insults the way Danny had, but he couldn't even be totally sure of that. And he'd clearly never said anything to make her feel secure and comfortable about it.

‘Of course, I’m okay with it,’ he said, since that seemed the most basic and simple truth. ‘It doesn’t make any difference, Cal—not to us being friends.’

She looked at him, emotions flickering over her face, and Scorpius wondered if he should do more than just sit here opposite her. Should he hug her or something? But he wasn’t a hugging kind of person—and neither was she, really. It was Danny who pulled both of them into awkward embraces, and also Danny who always had a quick reply and a smile to make every situation better.

Scorpius looked around at him, and Calypso’s eyes followed his. Danny still had not moved, and was staring at them blankly, his mouth slightly open, and Scorpius’s heart sank a little. Surely Dan wasn’t going to be weird about it? 

Under their gaze he blinked, then seemed to come to life.

‘God,’ he said. ‘Cal, I—I didn’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t have said that if I’d—’

He broke off as Calypso huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh, turning her face away from him.

‘Right,’ she said, looking straight ahead of her. ‘So, it’s okay to say homophobic stuff so long as the only people around you who are gonna get hurt by it are people you don’t like? You think that makes it better? Just don’t say stuff in front of your lesbian friend, and it’s all fine.’

‘No.’ Something almost like annoyance crossed Danny’s face. ‘That’s not what I meant.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘I shouldn’t have said it at all, I get that. It’s not even what I really think, so it was—’ Danny moved towards her chair and half-perched on the arm of it. ‘It was out of line, like you said. I’m sorry, Cal—seriously. I guess I just have some stuff to learn.’

‘I guess you do,’ Calypso said, glancing briefly at him.

‘Well, we probably both do,’ Scorpius broke in, hurrying in case Danny started arguing again. ‘I mean, there’s got to be, right? I—I don’t think I know any other—you know, uh—’

‘Yeah, well, first thing you can learn is how to say the word lesbians.’ Calypso rolled her eyes, then blinked them hard. A small smile was twitching her lips, though, and she laughed shakily as she went on. ‘It’s not a dirty word, you know.’

‘No, of course not,’ Scorpius said, hastily. ‘I just didn’t know if you’d want me to—’

Her foot nudged his.

‘It’s okay, Scorp.’ She glanced again at Danny. ‘I don’t mind you guys not _knowing_ stuff. I don’t know loads of it either yet. I just—you’re my best friends. My only friends, pretty much. And I haven’t told my parents—they wouldn’t get it. I haven’t told anyone. So, if I don’t have you two—’

‘You do, though.’ Danny moved his arm towards her as if he might hug her, then hesitated and very lightly punched her shoulder instead. ‘Obviously, you’ve got us. I mean, if you still want me, after what I said.’

She hit him back, somewhat harder than he’d hit her.

‘Yeah, well. Just don’t say that shit again, okay?’

*

On Sunday, the common room had been full of people coming and going all day, and there had been no chance at all of sneaking back into the seventh year boys’ dormitory, even when James Potter himself had been off running Quidditch practice. Issie and the others had hung around for most of the morning, hoping for an opportunity, but there was none, and after lunch, Pádraig and Artemis had disappeared somewhere, which Issie assumed meant that they’d given up on the idea of putting the map straight back.

Issie, although having the map made her slightly nervous, hadn’t been too sorry about it. Jake had come to hang out with her and Sophie again, and they'd taken it up to the dormitory and drew the curtains around Issie’s bed while they studied it. Jake and Sophie had got bored faster than Issie and started talking about TV shows, of which Jake had seen more than Sophie, and they'd both seen more than Issie, who'd never watched TV at all, although she knew what it was.

There was something fascinating about the way those tiny dots moved around the castle, though, and Issie had got the map out again after the others had gone to bed, and managed her own _Lumos_ spell—something they’d only started studying that week—to look at it. Even at night, it was fun to see everyone’s spidery names scattered about. A lot of the older students hadn't been in bed yet, and she'd found Scorpius in his common room with Danny Urquhart. It was comforting, somehow, to see him there—a reminder that, even though they weren’t in the same house, he wasn’t really very far away.

She'd looked for Searle Nott too, although she wasn’t quite sure why; she was just curious, after seeing him and Darius Avery sneaking about like that. What had been so important that they’d been going to do instead of going to Hogsmeade? Scorpius didn’t like Searle, and Issie didn’t much like Mr or Mrs Nott either, the few times she’d met them, even if they were old family friends. Searle had been in his dormitory, though, not doing anything suspicious at all, so she'd watched a pair of prefects patrolling down a corridor instead and giggled to herself as they just managed to miss a moving staircase and were left stranded. Even the older ones got it wrong sometimes, apparently.

Eventually she had fallen asleep, with her head on the map, and didn’t remember to wipe it blank again until she woke in the morning. Then, once all the lines of the castle had disappeared, she shoved it under her pillow so that nobody would find it, even though there was no way James Potter would look in a first year dorm for it, even if he’d realised it was gone.

She was bleary-eyed at breakfast, after staying awake so late, and barely listened to Sophie chattering about the Charms lesson they had first. However, she did notice, from the corner of her eye, a familiar tawny owl flying in with the morning post. Caligula, Dad’s owl. For a moment, Issie brightened with hope, but he was headed for the Slytherin table. She sighed and watched him swoop across the table, and then back again. Where _was_ Scorpius? Caligula didn’t seem to see him either, and, after a couple of other short flights back and forward across the table, he changed course and flew back towards Issie.

The letter landed in front of her, and Issie picked it up a little hesitantly, the owl sparing her barely more than a glance before soaring off with the others towards the owlery. It was Dad’s writing on the envelope, but it was sealed clumsily, without the Malfoy crest stamped into the wax. That wasn’t like Dad. Her name was on the front as well as Scorpius’s, though, which must be why the owl had decided she’d do as a second best. So that made it okay for her to open it, didn’t it?

Issie broke the seal and pulled the parchment out of the envelope. Dad had written the letter too, just a few lines in a hurried scrawl, and they were addressed to Scorpius, despite her name with his on the outside. Her head spun as she read them, then read them again to be sure she couldn’t have misunderstood. It didn’t seem real—it couldn’t be real—and yet, there it was in Dad’s writing, clear on the parchment.

‘Issie?’ came Sophie’s concerned voice from beside her. ‘Are you okay?’

She turned her head in Sophie’s direction, but hardly saw her through the sudden tears that blurred her eyes.

‘I—have to find my brother,’ she jerked out.

Where _was_ Scorpius? He could be anywhere—still asleep, at a prefects’ meeting, practising Quidditch, anywhere. He could have got up early and already finished his breakfast. And Issie had a way to find out where he was, but she’d left it upstairs, stuffed under her pillow. Charms was starting soon, but that didn't matter compared with the contents of the letter

Issie scrambled to her feet, ignoring the startled looks from people around her. Scorpius would be able to make sense of things. He’d make it seem less bad, somehow. She just needed to find out where he was.


	7. New Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Malfoy family deals with a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone reading this!
> 
> warning for this chapter: complications in pregnancy/childbirth.

The Muggle Studies text book was on her bed, exactly where she'd put it while she'd been putting mascara on before breakfast, intending to pick it up before she left the dorm. Lily grabbed it, checked in the mirror that the mascara hadn't smudged—she was trying out a spell she'd found in a magazine for fixing make-up, but she wasn't sure she'd quite perfected it yet—and headed out of the door again. 

She was going to be late if she wasn’t quick. With her book under one arm, she hurried down the stairs, thinking about her plans for later. She was meeting Zeke at a particular portrait on the first floor, straight after their final lesson, an arrangement that might, she supposed, be called a second date. Lily still wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about Zeke Davies, but she had enjoyed Saturday. He was sweet, seemed interested in what she had to say, despite being a year older than her, and he looked at her like she was something special. And when conversation failed, they could always resort to kissing, which had probably been the most fun part anyway.

She passed the doorway to the first-year landing and paused. Was that—yes, it was the sound of someone crying in one of the dorms. Lily hesitated for only a moment. She couldn’t just leave without checking they were okay.

The nearest door was ajar, and Lily pushed it a little further open. Iseult Malfoy was curled on the second bed in, sobbing into her pillow, with a small, fair-haired figure knelt on the floor beside her, her hand on Iseult's shoulder. The back of the blonde head was towards Lily, but she'd know those two thick plaits anywhere. Any thought of slipping tactfully away left Lily’s head. Something bad must have happened.

‘Sophie?’ Lily said. ‘What’s happened—are you guys okay?’

Sophie twisted around, and Lily thought she pushed something out of sight under the bed, but she was more worried about Iseult.

‘Lily! I—’ Sophie’s eyes darted to Iseult, and she seemed unsure whether to go on.

Lily advanced into the room and hovered at the end of the bed, her hand on the corner post.

‘Sorry, I know it’s none of my business, but can I help? Did someone say something to you?’

Someone could have. Lily knew the whispers that were going around about the Malfoy family. And Iseult was all by herself in Gryffindor. Sophie was the kind of kid to befriend anyone left on their own, but not everyone was like that. Even some people in Lily’s year had been wondering what Iseult Malfoy was doing in their house, and she’d heard James on the subjects of Death Eater families and Slytherins often enough. Not that James would say anything to a first year—at least, Lily hoped not—but someone else could have.

Or something even worse could have happened. Maybe they’d found out that Mrs Malfoy really had cast that Imperius Curse on the Muggle girl after all. In which case, Lily’s dad and uncle would be involved, and she’d probably be the last person Iseult wanted to see.

‘Issie?’ Sophie said softly. ‘D’you want to… can I tell her?’

Iseult nodded, not moving except to scrub at her eyes with a hand, the storm of sobs easing. Sophie looked around at Lily, her blue eyes round with worry.

‘It’s her mum. She—she had a baby.’

‘A _baby_?’ Whatever Lily had been expecting, it wasn’t that. And why was Iseult so upset by it? ‘But—is everything okay? Is she—’

‘She’s ill.’ Iseult pushed herself up on one arm, into a sitting position, her breath still hitching and tears on her cheeks. ‘She—she’s in St Mungo’s. My dad wrote—but I can’t—Scorpius doesn’t know. He’s in his common room, and I can’t get in, and—’ Fresh tears spilled over. ‘I just want to see her.’

‘Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Iseult.’ Lily sat down on the bed and impulsively laid an arm around Iseult’s shoulders. ‘What did your dad say? The healers are really good, you know. I’m sure your mum’s going to be alright.’

She tried to make her tone as reassuring as she could, but her mind was racing. What should she tell them? And should she be doing something? Iseult said her brother didn’t know, but did _anyone_ know, other than the three of them?

Iseult sobbed again as she leaned into Lily’s shoulder. ‘He—he just said—she’s ill. I don’t know. I don’t know if she’s going to be okay. Or the baby. He’s ill too. He—he wasn’t meant to come for another month, and now—’

Lily wrapped her arm more firmly around Iseult, trying to think of a plan, or something better to say at least. She’d never felt less up to a situation, but she could only imagine how it would feel if it was her own mum, and she was all alone without her family around her.

Sophie shifted onto the bed on the other side of Iseult and put a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Your dad did say he was going to try and Floo the school this afternoon,’ she ventured.

Lily made a decision. ‘Look, you need to tell your brother. But you know, he probably isn’t in his common room by now, unless he’s got a free lesson. First lesson’s about to start.’ And Lily didn’t stand the smallest chance of being on time for Muggle Studies, but that didn’t seem to matter much right now. ‘I think you need to tell a teacher. And the best person is Sophie’s dad. He’s your Head of House, and he’ll know what to do. He’ll be able to find Scorpius for you too.’

Sophie looked worried. ‘We’re meant to be in Charms. And I don’t know if Dad’s teaching or in his office. I could send him a Glasschat message, but he won't see it if he's teaching.’ She glanced at Iseult and hesitated, as if thinking of saying something else, but then looked at Lily instead. ‘Don’t you have a lesson now too?’

‘Yeah, but it’s okay.’ Lily glanced at her textbook. ‘I’ll just be late. And maybe your dad’ll give me a note. Come on—you’re not going to be in trouble, not for this. We have to go past his office to get anywhere, so let's check there first.’

Iseult clung onto Lily’s arm like a lifeline as they crossed the empty common room, and Lily had a passing thought that this was kind of weird—her, Lily Potter, looking after Scorpius Malfoy’s little sister. Apart from anything else, she didn’t feel very qualified to be looking after anyone. But she doubted that the rest of the Malfoy family would be very happy that she knew their personal business like this.

Uncle Neville’s office wasn’t very far from the bottom of Gryffindor Tower. Lily hoped he would be there, because if they had to go all the way down to the greenhouses, there would be almost no point her even going to Muggle Studies. With a glance down at Iseult, who was still red-eyed and shaky, but not actually crying anymore, Lily knocked at the door.

‘Come in!’ came the cheerful reply a moment later.

Relieved, she pushed it open. Uncle Neville always encouraged the Gryffindor students to drop in whenever he was there, and Lily had been in a few times, usually more to say hello than because she had any actual problems. It was a cosy space, with a wood fire burning low in the grate, two armchairs either side of it, and Uncle Neville’s desk at the far end, bookshelves behind and either side of it. Uncle Neville himself was sitting at his desk with what looked like a pile of students’ work, but he looked up and put his quill down as they came in, his welcoming smile turning into a frown.

‘Girls, what’s the problem?’ His eyes flicked over Sophie, then Lily, and came to rest on Iseult as he got up and took a few quick strides towards them. ‘Come in and tell me what’s happened.’

The story spilled out, and Lily heard a little more of it too. The baby hadn’t been due for another month, and Iseult’s mum had been quite ill for most of the time she’d been pregnant. Her dad had told her not to go around chattering about it, so she hadn’t told anyone. She didn’t know what had happened, only that her mum had been rushed to St Mungo’s the night before, and her dad had only had time to scribble a quick note to Scorpius, but Scorpius hadn’t been at breakfast when the owl arrived. Their dad had promised to Floo with more news later, but that was all he’d said. He'd them not to worry, though—and told Scorpius to tell Iseult that it would all be alright.

‘But I—I don’t know if it will be,’ Iseult finished with a gulp. ‘He always says that. They think I’m too young to know things, but what if it’s not alright? I want to see her. I want my mum.’

‘Alright,’ Uncle Neville said, his hand on Iseult’s shoulder and his voice very calm; if he was even slightly surprised by the news, he didn’t show it. ‘Come and sit down. Now, listen. There are lots of reasons why they might have decided to take your mum into hospital, and the baby being early would explain it by itself. But a month isn’t too early, you know. Lots of babies come at eight months.’

He propelled Iseult into one of the armchairs, and she looked up at him hopefully.

‘D’you think she’s okay, then?’

Uncle Neville hesitated. ‘Well, I don’t know the situation, so I can’t really think anything. But I’ll tell you what I know, and that is that the people at St Mungo’s know what they’re doing. They’ll be looking after her—and the baby.’

‘That’s what Lily said,’ Sophie broke in.

Uncle Neville looked around with a small smile. ‘Yes, well, Lily’s right. Now, first things first, I think we’d better find out what lesson your brother’s in. And then we’ll see what we can do about contacting your father. Lily, Sophie, where are you supposed to be right now?’

‘Muggle Studies,’ Lily said.

‘Charms.’ Sophie looked at her dad. ‘But can’t I stay with Issie, Dad?’

He glanced at Iseult, who took a shaky breath.

‘Please, Professor?’ she asked, with an appealing look through tear-stained eyes.

That seemed to make Uncle Neville's mind up. ‘Alright. Yes, you can stay here for the moment, anyway.’ He looked at Lily. ‘I think you’d better get off to your lesson, if you’re okay, though. Just—’ He glanced back at Sophie and Iseult, then nodded his head at the door. ‘A word quickly, Lil.’

He came with her out of the office and closed the door behind him. Lily turned to him.

‘D’you really think Mrs Malfoy’s going to be okay, Uncle—I mean, Professor Longbottom?’

He gave her a distracted smile that faded quickly back into a frown.

‘Uncle Neville’s alright when there’s nobody to hear. But honestly, I couldn’t begin to tell you. I hope so, but—’ he broke off and shook his head. ‘Look, Lily, not a word of this to anyone, alright? It’s a very personal thing, and I’m sure you wouldn’t gossip, but I just want to be clear that that includes everyone, even your friends. I’ll send a message to Professor Heron, so you’re not in any trouble, but you’ll need to keep everything else to yourself. Okay?’

Lily nodded, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to tell the others, who would want to know where on earth she'd been. Uncle Neville was right, though. She couldn’t tell even Meri the truth—not when it was someone else’s serious family business. 

‘Yes. Thanks, Uncle Neville. And I—I hope everything’s alright.’

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

‘Well, I’m glad you were there for her—for both of them. You did absolutely the right thing, bringing her to me. Now, get along before you miss your whole lesson.’

She really did hope everything would be alright, Lily thought, as she hurried through the corridors towards the Muggle Studies classroom. She didn’t know much about the Malfoy family these days, only the things they’d done during the war, but those were all a very long time ago. Iseult was a nice little thing, and even Scorpius didn’t seem that bad, from the little she’d seen of him. James had that stupid feud with him, but that was just James being stupid. Scorpius had come all the way to see his sister at the Gryffindor table that first morning, and Lily couldn’t help feeling that that was more than James would have done for her.

And now their mum and their baby brother were ill in hospital, and that was a horrible thing, no matter who it happened to. Especially after the way everyone had been talking about Mrs Malfoy. Lily hoped that those rumours weren't true, for Iseult’s sake—and she hoped, too, that the stress of being suspected didn’t have anything to do with Mrs Malfoy being ill now.

She slid into the classroom, nearly half the lesson already gone. Professor Heron looked around at her and sniffed disapprovingly.

‘Take a seat, Miss Potter,’ was all she said, however. ‘We are on page ninety-four.’

Lily slipped into her usual seat beside Freya Robbins, who looked at her with wide eyes.

‘Where have you been?’ Freya whispered.

Lily shook her head. ‘Nowhere. It doesn’t matter.’

She was glad to have Professor Heron to pay attention to, though, because Freya was looking at her in surprise and suspicion. Hopefully she would drop it by the end of the lesson, because Lily was no good with secrets and lying, and Meri would be a lot harder to put off than Freya.

*

Issie sat huddled in the large armchair beside Professor Longbottom’s fire, feeling just a little bit better than she had done before. Up there in the dormitory, when she’d realised from the map that she had no way of getting to Scorpius unless she managed to break into the Slytherin common room, and no way of contacting her dad either, it had felt like she was stuck in a nightmare, where her mum could have been dying at that very moment and there was nothing Issie could do.

But now, at least, things were happening. Sophie’s dad had been even nicer than usual, Professor Sewell was finding Scorpius, and Sophie was still here beside her, wedged into the same chair and leaning on Issie slightly, solid and comforting. Professor Longbottom had also Flooed St Mungo’s and refused to give up until he found someone who could tell him that everything was stable, which apparently meant that Mum _wasn’t_ going to die immediately.

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later Scorpius appeared, his brows drawn anxiously together, Professor Sewell behind him.

‘Issie!’ he said, coming straight to her. ‘Are you okay?’

Issie scrambled out of the chair with a little bit of difficulty, and Scorpius put his arm around her. She leaned into him, tears threatening again as she buried her face in the front of his robes for a moment.

‘Why weren’t you at breakfast?’

He swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, Is. Sorry you had to deal with it by yourself. But it’s going to be alright, okay?’

There was a sort of crack in his voice, and Issie, pulling back, realised suddenly that he was as scared as she was.

‘Don’t!’ she burst out. ‘Don’t keep telling me it’s alright, when it might not be.’

He squeezed her shoulders a bit tighter, his lips pressed together.

‘Okay. Yeah. I don’t know if it is or not.’ He looked past her at where Professor Longbottom and Professor Sewell were talking quietly together. ‘I—I’d like to talk to my dad, if we can, sir.’

‘I left a message for him,’ Professor Longbottom said, ‘with the Floo address of this office. I asked him to get in touch as soon as he reasonably can, so I’m sure he won’t be too long.’

‘Can’t we go there?’ Issie asked. It was better now that Scorpius was here, but all she really wanted was to see Mum for herself. ‘To St Mungo’s?’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to turn up at the hospital without talking to your father first,’ Professor Longbottom said gently. ‘He may prefer you to stay here. It depends on the situation. You might not be able to see her anyway,’ he added, looking at Issie’s face.

There was a crackle in the fire, and, as they all turned to look, Issie’s father’s face appeared in it among the glowing logs.

‘Dad!’ Issie and Scorpius both started together, then stopped.

‘How’s Mum?’ Scorpius asked, after a moment’s pause.

Their dad sighed. ‘She’s stable. She’s going to be alright.’ He looked over at the two professors. ‘I would prefer to have this conversation properly, while fully present.’

‘Of course.’ Professor Longbottom stepped forward. ‘I’ll open up the connection and you can come over.’

Dad’s head withdrew, and Professor Longbottom threw a small amount of Floo powder into the fire. The glowing logs leapt into green flames, and a moment later, their dad was stepping onto the hearthrug.

‘Daddy!’ Issie sprang forwards, wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, and clung there.

She felt her father tense slightly, then his arms went around her too.

‘Alright, Issie.’ He stroked the back of her head. ‘It’s alright.’

She released him far enough to look up at him.

‘Is it? Is it really? Please, Dad, you have to tell me, I’m not a baby.’

‘I told you, your mother is stable.’ He looked over her head and spoke stiffly. ‘Is there anywhere I could speak to my children in private?’

‘Yes, you can stay here,’ Professor Longbottom said quickly. ‘We’ll leave you to it. Have a seat and make yourselves at home.’

He looked at Professor Sewell, who nodded.

‘Of course. But I would like a quick word before you leave, please, Mr Malfoy. We'll be outside.’

‘Come on,’ Professor Longbottom said, holding out an arm to Sophie. ‘You come with us.’

Issie’s father gave Sophie a startled glance, as if he’d only just noticed her and wasn’t sure who she was. Sophie squeezed Issie’s arm as she passed.

‘I hope it’s okay,’ she whispered, before being ushered away by her dad.

Dad stared after them as the door closed behind them.

‘Who was that child?’ he asked.

‘That’s my friend, Sophie.’ Issie stepped back, wiping away the new, hot tears that had leaked out of her eyes.

‘Sophie—Longbottom?’ Dad said, his voice a little jerky.

‘Yes.’ Issie tilted her chin up defiantly. ‘She’s my best friend.’

He looked at her for a long moment, then exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. He looked exhausted, Issie realised. His clothes, usually neat and pressed, were wrinkled, his shirt buttons open at the collar and his sleeves pushed up, and he didn't look like he'd shaved either.

‘Not really the point right now,’ Scorpius broke in, sounding almost angry. ‘Dad, what’s going on? You couldn’t have Flooed first thing, instead of writing a _letter_ to tell us Mum’s in hospital?’

Their father sank into the other armchair and rested his elbows on his knees.

‘I Flooed as soon as I could, Scorpius—’

‘I wasn’t even at breakfast when the owl arrived,’ Scorpius broke in. ‘Issie had to open it all by herself.’

‘Well, that obviously wasn’t my intention,’ Dad said irritably. ‘I hope you can understand that I wasn’t thinking very clearly last night.’ He looked at Issie, and his face softened. ‘I’m sorry you got a fright like that.’

Issie hardly cared and wasn’t interested in an argument.

‘Dad, what about _Mum_?’ she asked urgently. ‘And—and the baby?’

He rubbed a hand across his forehead and then down his face.

‘Your mum wasn’t feeling well over the weekend, but we didn't think much of it—just assumed it was a normal, late-pregnancy issue. Then last night, she went into labour early. When we got her to the hospital, they found that she had an infection, which had spread to the baby's blood. But they managed to deliver the baby, and she is going to be alright, I promise you. The baby needs a lot of care right now, though. He’s not at all well, but the healers are doing everything they can.’

There was a short silence. Issie’s head was reeling. Mum hadn’t been very well for most of the time she’d been pregnant—tired and distracted, even when she wasn’t being sick. But she and Dad had always talked about the baby as if it were something bright and wonderful to look forward to. As if everything would go back to being right and normal again when it arrived.

And now this.

‘Can we see them?’ she asked in a small voice.

Dad smiled very slightly.

‘You can visit your mum. She wants to see you too. They don’t let anyone except parents into the special baby unit, so you can’t meet your brother yet, I’m afraid. But soon, we hope.’

He looked at Scorpius, and Issie darted her eyes between them. It seemed like things were always tense between her brother and her dad these days. But this wasn’t the time for that, and maybe they thought the same, because she saw Scorpius’s shoulders relax, and he nodded.

‘Has he got a name?’ he asked.

Their father smiled again, a proper smile this time, although still tired.

‘Caelum. His name is Caelum.’

It was hours later, the school day over, when they Flooed back the way they’d come, into Professor Longbottom’s office again.

Things still seemed quite sad and scary, but having her mum’s arms around her, even from a hospital bed, had made the world a little safer. Mum was going to be okay. It was baby Caelum they had to worry about now.

‘I’ve informed the senior staff,’ Professor Longbottom said, as he saw them out. ‘And we’ve excused you from the lessons you missed, so don’t worry about that. How much you tell your friends is entirely up to you and your family, of course, but I’ve made sure it’s not going to go any further unless you choose it to. Sophie understands, and so does Lily—’

‘Lily?’ Scorpius stared at him.

‘Ah. Yes, Lily Potter brought Issie and Sophie here to me this morning. But I can promise you that she won’t have told anyone else. I made it very clear that it was a private, family matter.’

Issie didn’t think Scorpius looked very convinced, but he nodded.

‘Okay. Thanks, sir.’

Professor Longbottom smiled. ‘You’re very welcome. And Iseult, you know you can come and talk any time. My office hours are on the door, and Sophie knows how to get in touch with me anyway. That goes for you too, Scorpius,’ he added, ‘although I know Professor Sewell’s door is open too.’

Once the door was closed behind them and they were safely around the next corner, Issie looked at Scorpius.

‘I like Professor Longbottom,’ she said.

‘Yeah, so do I,’ Scorpius said, sounding a little surprised.

‘Dad doesn’t.’

‘Well, I suppose too much happened between them at school and stuff,’ he said, with a shrug.

‘Like you and James Potter?’ Issie asked.

‘What do you know about that?’ Scorpius’s eyes narrowed.

‘Well, I heard what he said to you my first morning. And I know you had a fight in Hogsmeade on Saturday. Everyone was talking about it.’

‘Yeah, well, you shouldn’t believe everything everyone’s talking about.’

‘D’you mean you _didn’t_ fight with him?’ Issie asked, a little suspicious. She thought that would be a lie, if that was what he was saying, because some of the things she’d heard had been quite specific.

He laughed, an unexpected sound.

‘You know, it’s probably a good thing you’re not in my house. You’re already finding out way too much. It was like two hexes, that was all. And don’t you dare tell Mum and Dad.’

‘I wouldn’t!’ Issie said indignantly. ‘You know I wouldn’t!’

‘Okay, okay,’ he said, still laughing. ‘I believe you.’

She wondered what Scorpius would say if he knew about the map they’d stolen, the map that was still up in her dormitory. Hopefully, Sophie had found and hidden it properly. Issie almost wanted to tell him, just to see his reaction, but he might just be horrified. Apart from anything else, it let her spy on him.

They paused at the point that their paths divided, and Scorpius looked down at her.

‘It really _is_ going to be okay, you know,’ he said softly.

Issie thought he was telling himself as much as her, which made her mind less that it might not be quite true. She nodded.

‘I know. Can we talk tomorrow, though?’

‘Course. After lessons, maybe? What have you got last?’

‘Herbology, but I can be quick coming up from the greenhouses,’ she told him.

Scorpius nodded. ‘I’ll meet you in the Entrance Hall, okay? We can go for a walk before dinner or something. See you, Is.’

They had to believe it was going to be okay, Issie thought, as she plodded her way up to Gryffindor Tower. There wasn’t any other option.

She found Sophie with the other girls in the dormitory, changing out of their school robes for the evening.

‘Issie!’ It was Sam who greeted her, wide-eyed, as she came in through the door. ‘You’re back! Are you okay?’

Issie glanced past Sam at Sophie, who was standing in her shirt and knickers, looking anxious.

‘I didn’t tell them,’ Sophie said quickly. ‘I just said you had a family thing. Is that—’

‘It’s okay.’ Issie came in and sat on her bed, feeling suddenly very tired. ‘I don’t mind.’ She looked at Sam. ‘My mum had a baby, but things went wrong, so now she’s in hospital. She’s going to be okay, but they don’t totally know about the baby yet.’

‘Oh my god.’ Sam looked stricken. ‘That’s really horrible. I’m sorry, Issie. Did you go to see them?’

Morgan, who had been sleeping on Issie’s pillow, got up, stretched, and climbed onto Issie’s knee. Issie stroked her head and nodded.

‘Yeah. Well, we weren’t allowed to see the baby, but we saw Mum.’

Sam, who had already changed, came and sat beside her as they watched Sophie wrestle on a pair of tights, and Issie smiled at her. Sam was still best friends with Antigone, but she seemed to be okay with Issie again these days.

‘I’m glad your mum’s okay, anyway,’ Sam said. ‘Is the baby a boy or a girl?’

‘A boy,’ Issie told her. ‘His name’s Caelum.’

Antigone followed Sam over, looked hesitantly at Issie, and then sat down on the other side of her. Issie blinked at her, unused to Antigone willingly coming anywhere near her, let alone sitting on her bed.

‘My little sister came ten weeks early,’ Antigone said, clasping her hands tightly in her lap and not quite looking at Issie.

‘Oh.’ Issie digested this. ‘Was she—was she okay?’

‘Yeah, she’s five now. And she’s fine.’ Antigone turned her head and gave Issie a small smile. ‘She was in hospital for ages, though. I’m just saying, I—I know it’s really scary. And I hope your baby brother’s okay.’

‘I—thanks,’ Issie said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the unexpected display of friendliness.

There was a small pause.

‘Well, you missed a _super_ boring History of Magic lesson,’ Sam said at last. ‘And we’ve got the longest essay ever for Transfiguration.’

Issie pulled a face, grateful for the distraction.

‘I bet Shafiq’ll make me do that anyway.’

‘I tell you what _else_ you missed in History of Magic,’ Sophie said, with a giggle. ‘Tiggi got a love letter.’

‘It was not a love letter.’ Antigone folded her arms across her chest, going pink. ‘A stupid drawing of a heart with my name in it isn’t a love letter.’

Issie wrinkled her nose. ‘Eurgh. Who was it from?’

‘We don’t know,’ Sam told her. ‘It was just on her chair when we came in, but the Ravenclaws were all already there, so I think it was one of them.’

‘Who d’you _hope_ it was from, Tiggi?’ Sophie asked, still sounding like she was on the edge of giggles.

‘Nobody,’ Tiggi said.

‘Conrad Ashley,’ Sam said at the same moment.

Sophie’s laughter bubbled over, and even Issie grinned as Tiggi glared at them.

‘I do not hope it was Conrad Ashley. It was stupid, anyway. I threw it away.’

‘Aw, that means Issie can’t see it.’ Sam said, disappointed. ‘It was actually quite a good drawing, you know.’

‘Anyone can draw a heart,’ Tiggi retorted. ‘It was stupid.’

‘Well, boys are stupid,’ Sam agreed.

‘It might not have been a boy. You don’t know that,’ Sophie pointed out, rolling onto her front and leaning her chin pensively on her hands. ‘Anyway, I thought it was sort of sweet. Nobody’s ever sent _me_ a love letter.’

‘It wasn’t a letter. Letters have _words_ ,’ Tiggi said.

Issie leaned back on her hands, Morgan kneading gently at her legs, and listened to them argue and giggle. She felt a glow of warmth towards all her dormmates, even Tiggi. It was hard to believe that bad things could happen when she had friends to laugh with like this.

It would all be alright. It had to be.


	8. An Incident at Honeydukes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Investigating a break-in leads Harry to make a discovery. Scorpius has an unexpected conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the update taking longer than normal, i had family visiting.
> 
> a quick note for this chapter: to be clear, the only stuff i take as absolute canon (apart from the names and families of the next gen that jkr gave us) is book canon, hence you'll get things like a living lavender brown showing up in my stories. :)
> 
> and thank you to the wonderful dr. verity [nectarines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nectarines/pseuds/nectarines) for your medical consultations.

Harry took a sip of coffee and scanned down the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. It was all Ministry business, most of which Harry had already heard about and none of which he cared about very much. The world had all but lost interest in a curse cast on a random Muggle child. It had been a good story when the Malfoys were involved, but, when none of them were arrested, the papers had run out of steam on it. There were only so many times they could go over the same facts, and only so much speculation that could be done with those sparse facts.

A small paragraph in the bottom right had Theo Nott’s face above it, smiling in a self-satisfied way, the text under it promising a full interview with the President of the League of Magic on page four, and Harry folded the paper up with a sigh of irritation and laid it on the table. He had no desire to read an interview with Theo Nott.

Ginny, who had stolen the only part of the paper of any interest in order to check that no errors had been made in her sports editorial, looked up with a smile.

‘Nothing exciting this morning?’

‘Only another imports row,’ Harry said. ‘And Nott spouting shit again. The _Prophet_ needs to stop giving the League a platform.’

Ginny wrinkled her nose. ‘Can’t you find some excuse to get that crowd shut down?’

‘Nothing the Auror Department can do, unless someone turns up evidence that they’re using the Dark Arts. Which I’m pretty sure at least some of them probably are, but proving it’s something else. And even then, unless we could link it directly to the people at the top, it wouldn’t stop them.’

‘People at the top? You mean Nott?’ Ginny indicated the paper, where Nott’s face was still visible.

‘Well, he’d be a start, but Theo Nott’s not in control of the League of Magic,’ Harry said with a sigh. ‘He’s president, but I’d say Pansy’s driving things. And to be honest, I think there are other people behind the scenes. People who are never going to let their names and faces get linked with the League in the _Daily Prophet.’_ Anyway, as I say, I’m sure there’s some dodgy stuff going on underneath it all, but we’ll have to wait for them to slip up before we can catch any of them.’

He broke off at a loud tap at the window, and they both looked up to find a long-eared owl staring in at them.

Ginny got up. ‘I don’t recognise it, do you?’ she asked, opening the window and taking the letter.

The owl didn’t wait for either payment or food, but lifted off and flapped away across the back garden.

‘Post Office owl?’ Harry guessed, taking another mouthful of coffee.

Ginny turned towards him, her eyes shining, the letter in her hand.

‘International Mail! And look at the writing—nobody else draws a flower over the ‘i’ in Ginny. It’s from Luna.’

She brought the letter back to the table, and Harry banished thoughts of his work, smiling at the welcome distraction.

‘Oh, yeah? What’s the news from deepest Alaska, then? Is that even where they still are?’

Ginny pulled open the envelope and extracted the letter.

‘Yes, still Alaska. Researching, er—’ She read down through the first paragraph. ‘Horned Peliskods. Never heard of them, but Luna and Rolf have found them, apparently. Seems like they’re all fine and happy. She wants to know what Lily wants for her birthday next month. And—oh!’ Ginny looked up from the letter, delight spreading across her face. ‘Harry, they’re coming back to the UK!’

‘Really? That’s great! When? And how long for?’

‘Well…’ Ginny continued reading. ‘For good, it sounds like. Or for the foreseeable, anyway. Listen to this.

_‘We’ve been thinking very hard, and we love our travelling lives—Lorcan and Lysander learn so much, and it’s been wonderful for them to see so much of the world. But they’re getting older, and we have to make the decision about school in the next few years. We’ve talked about continuing to home-school, but we’d like the boys to have a say in it, and that means they need to understand what they’d been choosing. It’s two years since our last trip home, and four years since we spent more than a couple of weeks in Britain. They don’t know anything about it, or about Hogwarts, except my old stories. And we’d like to be closer to all of you, so you can be more than just names to the boys._

_So we’ve made our decision. We’ve talked for years about writing all our research up into a book, so that’s what we’re going to do. We want to be back before Christmas, and we need to find ourselves a house. 3-4 bedrooms, somewhere quiet but with a community around it, with a good garden, is all we need. We’re happy to rent for a bit if the timing is too tight to find a place to buy—’_

‘Hold on,’ Harry broke in, laughing. ‘Is she asking us to house-hunt for them?’

Ginny laughed. ‘I believe she is. And we’d better do it, too. Christmas is two months away, and if we don’t find anywhere for them before then, we’ll end up with all four of them camped out indefinitely in our spare room. I love Luna, but I’m not sure I could cope with that level of chaos.’

‘House-hunting tonight it is,’ Harry agreed, and glanced at his watch. ‘Now I need to get going, or my colleagues’ll be wondering if I’ve got lost. What time are you home today?’

‘Six-ish. I’m covering the Wasps-Tornadoes game, because Benson’s out with flu, but I’ll be popping into the office first. I'll take a look and see if there are any house ads waiting to go into tomorrow's edition. Might give us a head start.’

Harry grinned, getting up and dropping a kiss on her forehead as he passed her. ‘Never pass up a chance to make the most of our connections. I’ll see you later. And hey, we should let the others know Luna’s news. Maybe we could organise a little get-together pre-Christmas, like we used to when the kids were little. Not the entire old crowd, but a few of the people we’re closest to, and who know Luna best.’

‘Sounds great—especially if we can convince someone else to host,’ Ginny said, laughing as she raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Let’s find Luna and Rolf a nice, big house, and then we can have it there. But no, seriously, that’s a nice idea. I’d love to have people together again—It’s been a long time.’

Harry arrived in the Auror Office to find a buzz about the place, despite the early hour.

‘Harry!’ Lavender looked around from her conversation with two Junior Aurors as he passed. ‘Good, you’re here.’

‘Good morning to you too,’ Harry said, pausing in his tracks. ‘What’s the matter? Has something happened?’

She shoved a piece of parchment with a few photographs on top at him, and he glanced down at it.

‘Is that—Honeydukes?’

‘Break-in,’ she confirmed. ‘Some time in the early hours. Mr and Mrs Flume live over the shop and heard breaking glass, but by the time they got down there, the place was empty. No sign of the culprits—they got away without a trace.’

‘Er. Right.’ Harry stared at the photo of the front of the shop, which didn’t seem to show anything out of the ordinary, then up at Lavender. The Auror Department dealt with dark magic, not ordinary crime. ‘Am I missing something? Why have we been given this?’

‘Because of this.’ Lavender took the top photograph out of his hands and pointed to the one underneath.

It was a close-up of some floorboards with some kind of dark dust scattered on it. Harry squinted at it.

‘Is that what I think it is?’

It could have been all kinds of things, dark sand, coal dust, soot, fine gravel. But, given the context, he didn’t think it was any of those. He’d seen something similar a few times before, always as the by-product of a piece of powerful dark magic. Ward breakers, but not the normal type. This was the kind that burned right through far more powerful wards than the kind of anti-intruder charm you generally found on the doors of shops. There were a few different variations that Harry knew of, and they all required a bit more than just an incantation. Powerful magical items were required, generally of the forbidden type, meaning that they were classified as the Dark Arts even before you accounted for how they were generally used. They also tended leave impressive quantities of damage behind them, and Harry couldn’t think that he’d ever heard of one being used in a simple break-and-enter job. 

‘Are you telling me that someone used a genuine Shield Breaker to break into a sweet shop? What kind of bloody wards were the Flumes using?’

‘Normal ones,’ Lavender told him. ‘The whole thing’s weird. There was no reason to use that amount of force to get in. Anyone competent with counter-wards could have broken in with much less noise and fuss, and a lot more easily too. Shield Breakers aren’t exactly simple spells. And nothing was actually taken, so someone went to a whole lot of trouble with a dark, difficult spell to break into a small shop—where the most they could have got away with was a few hundred galleons in the safe—and then ran off with nothing to show for it at the first sign of trouble. So tell me how that makes sense.’

‘I can’t,’ Harry said, frankly. ‘Not from that much. What else is there? Why have _you_ taken this case?’

Lavender was a Senior Auror. She’d joined the department only a couple of years after he had, when the werewolf employment laws had finally been reformed. The use of a Shield Breaker meant that this case was automatically Auror business, but it was still essentially just a break-in, a minor case, and there were a dozen less senior people who could have handled it. Yet Lavender seemed to have taken charge of it herself, and also seemed keen for Harry to take an interest. And there was something in her face that told him she knew—or guessed—a little more than she’d said so far.

‘Well.’ Lavender took the photographs from him again and found another one, which she handed back. ‘Take a look at this shot of the back storage room. The damage is worse there than out on the shop floor, and there’s a lot more of the burn-residue too. The back windows are broken, which must have been the breaking glass that the Flumes heard. But the glass exploded outwards, not inwards. And that amount of damage wasn't done from outside.’

The picture showed that the back room was a mess of scattered boxes and fallen shelves, brightly wrapped sweets in cascades across the floor, but she was right, there was no broken glass on the floor. Harry narrowed his eyes, his mind running over the facts he was presented with.

‘So it looks like they were already inside when they cast it.’ he said slowly. ‘Meaning that that wasn’t how they broke in.’ He looked up at her and spoke sharply. ‘What were they doing in the back room of Honeydukes? You said nothing was taken?’

He knew what was in that back room, and he suspected that Lavender did too—certainly by now, if she hadn’t known before. Their teams must have searched the place.

‘Well, take a guess, and see if it matches up with mine,’ she said. ‘I assume you know about the secret passage—you always did seem to know about that sort of thing. The Flumes told us where the entrance is, although they swear they thought it was blocked up years ago.’

‘Shit,’ Harry said, thinking hard. ‘How much of this can we confirm? Where do the Hogwarts wards even start—would they have needed a Shield Breaker to get into the passage? We never used to, but we were students at the school at the time, so the wards weren't designed to keep us out. But if this was someone trying to break into _Hogwarts_ ,’ he went on, ‘we’ve got a problem on our hands. They couldn’t actually have managed it, could they?’ he added, as this even more alarming thought occurred to him. 

‘Well, the trouble with the Hogwarts wards—apart from the fact that nobody fully knows how they work—are that they fix themselves if they’re damaged. They do seem to start at the entrance to the passage, which I suppose is classed as Hogwarts land, and they don’t seem to have been breached, but there is just a possibility that someone slipped through and then the wards re-formed behind them. I think it’s very unlikely, though. There were Law Enforcement teams on the scene too quickly.’

Harry frowned at her. ‘We can’t leave that to chance just because it’s _unlikely_ , though.’

Lavender’s daughter was at the school too—best friends with Lily, no less—so he didn’t really expect she would have been lax on that one, and sure enough she raised her eyebrows, looking almost amused.

‘Well, no. Funnily enough, I had thought that through. There are teams from the Scottish Office in Hogwarts as we speak, being as discreet as possible—the last thing we want is people panicking, or excited kids joining in. And we’re finding out what we can from Ebenezer Morrison about how the wards work, since apparently that’s secret knowledge passed down only to the headteacher or some crap.’

‘Of course it is,’ said Harry resignedly. ‘Well good work, Lavender. I suppose we’ll need to search Hogsmeade and the local area too, although I can’t imagine we’re going to find our culprits hiding in the heather with some stolen Cockroach Clusters. They'll be long gone. Keep me updated, will you?’ he added, as he moved on towards his office with a feeling of uneasiness. ‘

People trying to break into Hogwarts—assuming that’s what they’d been doing—wasn’t something he even wanted to think about. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to these days, but that only made it worse. Hogwarts was where his kids were. It was very well-protected, and he thought Lavender was right that it was very unlikely anyone had managed to get past the wards, even with a Shield Breaker, but even the possibility was enough to be worrying. Not to mention the public clamour there would be if word leaked out that it was more than a simple break-in at Honeydukes. Everyone else’s children were also at Hogwarts.

Harry went into his office and picked up the pile of post that had been left for him. When he’d started out as an Auror, he’d been out in the field almost every day. The practical side of things, after all, was always what he’d been good at. Now he was in the office most of the time. Letters, meetings, reports, bureaucracy. When he’d first been promoted to Assistant Head of the Department, he’d actually been relieved—the kids had still been young, and missions were both exhausting and dangerous. He’d been glad of the break from the headlong rush of them. Now he found himself getting restless.

Hogwarts. One of the best-protected places in the country, even—or perhaps especially—since the war. He knew that there had been a lot of new wards built into the school when they rebuilt after the battle, but he also knew that the old wards hadn’t been entirely destroyed by the Death Eaters’ spells. They’d rebuilt themselves, as Lavender said. Old, powerful wards, possibly as old as the school. No wonder nobody really understood them. Could a single Shield Breaker have broken past them?

A thought occurred to Harry. There were many places to hide at Hogwarts, if an intruder had, by some small chance, managed to get inside without detection. What they might want, he had no idea. But he might just have a better and quicker way to track them down than teams of Aurors trying to search the entire castle and its grounds.

He stuck his head out of his office door again.

‘Hey, Lavender. I’m popping home for something. I’ll use my office Floo. Just be a minute or two.’

She waved an acknowledgement and went on talking to the Junior Aurors. Harry preferred to Apparate to work, as it was less destructive to clothes and didn’t use up Floo Powder, but for a quick there-and-back-again, his office Floo was faster than walking to one of the Apparition points.

Ginny had left for the _Prophet_ by the time he got there, and the house was empty. Harry had Flooed straight into the home office they shared—although Ginny used it far more than he did—because what he wanted was in his desk there. He took the key from its hiding place behind the clock and opened the third drawer down, the only one he kept locked. Then he stared at it.

It was empty.

It couldn’t be empty. The map had lived inside it ever since they’d moved into the house. He’d taken it out, he remembered, the week before James started Hogwarts, to show him the school he was going to, almost empty apart from a few teachers preparing for the new school year. A few times, during that first term, he and Ginny had taken it out to look at it together and see what James was doing. Eventually, they had agreed, a little guiltily, that it was a bit of an invasion of privacy to spy on him, and that they should probably trust his teachers to look out for him.

He couldn’t remember looking at it at all since then. After they’d decided they weren’t going to use it like that, he’d put it firmly out of his mind. James had nagged for it a few times, but Harry had—despite the temptation to hand it on—refused to give it to him. James didn’t need any encouragement to break rules, and, from the vantage point of parenthood, the idea that his children might have the power to sneak around at all hours, even to leave the school, without their teachers knowing about it, was somewhat horrifying. Al and Lily had never asked about it, and even James seemed to have forgotten eventually.

So where the hell was it? Had he moved it and forgotten? He was sure he hadn’t. Which only left one option, and that was that someone else had taken it. All the kids knew it was there, if they remembered, but they didn’t know where he kept the key, and Ginny certainly wouldn’t have removed it without telling him, although he could check that with her. The trouble was, he had no real idea of how long it had been gone. _Could_ he just have forgotten to put it back last time he’d had it out? It had been years ago, so he couldn’t specifically remember replacing it. But he wasn’t normally careless like that with important things.

Just to be absolutely sure, he took out his wand and tried _Accio_ , but wherever it was, it wasn’t within summoning range. That made him increasingly suspicious of his children, who were by far the likeliest candidates anyway. Damn it. And damn them, whichever of them had pinched it. He knew who his first suspect was, although Lily could sometimes branch out in unexpected ways too. But if it was up at Hogwarts, he had no immediate way of getting it back, short of going into school to confront them, and he’d rather not broadcast Auror interest in Hogwarts any more than it was already probably being broadcast.

He’d just have to trust Lavender’s teams after all. Although maybe, if he could make the time, he would have a little trip up to Hogsmeade at least. It would be good to be on the ground again, and, although he didn’t want to draw attention to the incident—and his appearance inevitably drew attention wherever he went—he could probably think of an excuse. Perhaps there were some nice houses to rent in Hogsmeade, which they could look at for Luna. He’d talk to Ginny about it.

And meanwhile, he’d decide what to do about the apparent map thief among his children.

*

Scorpius settled his bag on his shoulder as he left Ancient Runes, gloomily contemplating whether it was worth skipping lunch. He was hungry, so probably not, but he wished things would go back to normal. Danny and Calypso had been walking on tiptoes around each other ever since that day in Hogsmeade, and it was getting decidedly old. He couldn’t blame Cal, but, at the same time, Danny had apologised and seemed to be doing his best, and Scorpius wished she could just forgive him and move on.

One good thing was that people had mostly stopped talking about the Imperiused girl and about Scorpius’s parents, after it had all disappeared from the news. That worry, though, had just been replaced by all the worries about the baby, who was still in hospital. Scorpius and Issie had been able to visit their mum, but she’d been pale and sad and had seemed only half with them. Most of her mind had clearly been on baby Caelum, whom they had only been able to glimpse through a window, since only parents had been allowed into the room. It hadn’t done much to make Scorpius feel better, and he didn’t think Issie had been any more fooled than he was by their dad’s reassurances that everything was going to be fine.

‘Have you heard this?’ Prosperina Rowle—who was Danny’s cousin, although they weren’t exactly close—said to Xanthe Derrick, the two of them walking directly in front of Scorpius.

She showed Xanthe something on her Glasschat surface, and Xanthe frowned.

‘Someone broke into Honeydukes? Who was it, some kids with a sweet tooth?’

‘Yeah, but _also_ —’ Rina flicked something on the Glasschat. ‘Laetitia says there were Aurors in the grounds this morning, and apparently someone saw them coming out of Morrison’s office too.’

Neither of them was looking at Scorpius, but they were close enough that he didn’t feel the need to pretend he wasn’t hearing their conversation.

‘Why would Aurors be here because someone broke into Honeydukes?’ he asked.

Rina looked over her shoulder. ‘Well, it’s right down the road. Maybe they think it was a student. Or that whoever did it might be hiding here.’

‘ _Hiding_ here?’ Scorpius wondered how to explain how stupid that idea was, but then again, Rina Rowle would believe whatever seemed most exciting, and he doubted that anything he said would dissuade her.

‘Even if they did, it wouldn’t be Aurors looking for them, would it?’ Xanthe pointed out, a little more gently. ‘Not for a shop break-in.’

Rina looked stubborn. ‘I’m just telling you what Laetitia said. If they’re not looking for the person who broke into Honeydukes, what are they doing here?’

Scorpius glanced at Xanthe, who, whatever else you could say about her, did at least possess a brain, and was clearly thinking things over carefully.

‘Maybe it wasn’t really just a break-in at Honeydukes,’ she said slowly. ‘They could be covering something else up.’

‘Or the whole thing about Aurors could be bullshit,’ Scorpius said bluntly. ‘Or, I don’t know, they could have been here to organise some special Defence Against the Dark Arts class, like they did for the seventh years last year.’

That clearly didn’t sit well with Rina, who opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment a voice called from behind them.

‘Hey! Malfoy! Wait!’

Scorpius swung around, and was startled to see the red-headed figure of Lily Potter hurrying up the corridor towards him. He hesitated.

‘What does _she_ want?’ Xanthe demanded.

Scorpius glanced at Xanthe, his heart sinking. He had no idea what Lily Potter wanted, but she was one of the few people who knew about Caelum’s illness, a fact he didn’t like at all. He definitely didn’t want Xanthe and Rina finding out about that, because it would be all over Slytherin immediately, and the last thing he wanted was everyone talking about his family again.

Potter came to a halt beside them, a little out of breath, as if she’d been trying to catch him up for a while.

‘Hey, um.’ She looked at Xanthe and Rina, then back at him. ‘Sorry. Can I talk to you for a second?’

Scorpius also looked at the other two girls. Rina looked confused, and Xanthe was smirking, which didn’t make him feel a whole lot better.

‘Go on, then, Scorpius,’ Xanthe said, still grinning. ‘Sounds important.’

‘Well. Okay then,’ he muttered to Potter. He couldn’t exactly just tell her to fuck off, after all.

Her hand snagged his sleeve as she tugged him around a corner into a side passage, and Scorpius was already there before he realised what was happening. He cast an alarmed glance back the way they’d come, wondering what Xanthe and Rina were going to be thinking of this.

‘What the hell, Potter?’ he demanded in a low voice, in case they were still there, listening in. Maybe he wasn’t being too polite, but honestly, what did she think she was doing?

‘Sorry,’ she said again, then checked herself, and lowered her voice to match his. ‘I just—well, I saw you up the corridor, and I don’t know if your sister told you, but I—I know about what happened and everything—'

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘Right. Well, I just wanted to, y’know, say I’m sorry about it. And I wanted to say I haven’t told anyone, in case you were wondering. I didn’t know if your friends even knew, so I didn’t want to say it in front of them.’

‘My friends?’ he stared at her.

‘Yeah, those girls back there. Derrick and the other one.’

‘Oh. They’re not my—well, they don’t know, actually. So, er, thanks.’ He was being kind of rude, he realised, since she’d apparently only come to be nice. ‘I appreciate it. All of what you just said, I mean.’

She gave him a small smile, and he realised that this was probably the first time he’d ever had a conversation with Lily Potter, not counting those few words they’d exchanged that first morning, when he’d gone to find Issie. Not that there was any real reason why he should have talked to her, since she was two years below him.

‘How _is_ your mum?’ she asked. ‘And the baby? I did ask Iseult, but she didn’t seem that sure.’

‘Oh, yeah, well.’ He swallowed, still not finding it very easy to talk about. ‘Mum’s okay. They’ve still got the baby in hospital, though. He—got some kind of blood infection, and he’s still pretty ill, but they’re treating it.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ she said, sounding like she meant it. ‘I hope they’re both better soon. It must be rough, especially after the whole thing with that girl getting Imperiused near where you live.’

Scorpius blinked, because he hadn’t been expecting her to mention that, but he minded less than he’d have thought. Maybe it was because mostly when people brought it up, they were trying to be unpleasant about it—his friends just avoided talking about it.

‘Um. Yeah, it is,’ he said, surprising himself again by even admitting it to someone who was pretty much a stranger. ‘Well, y’know, thanks. And—’ He hesitated. ‘And thanks for looking out for Issie the other day too. That was really nice of you.’

Issie, when he’d talked to her, had been quite full of how nice Lily Potter had been, but Scorpius hadn’t been able to shake his unease at her even knowing about it. Maybe Issie had been right, though.

She smiled. ‘That’s okay. I was just worried for her. I think she’s doing okay, though—other than this, I mean. Like, she seems like she’s got friends and stuff. Her and Sophie seem really close.’

‘Yeah.’ Scorpius found himself smiling back ruefully. ‘I think she is, actually. She doesn’t look it, but she’s pretty tough.’

Lily laughed. ‘Yeah, us little sisters are mostly tougher than we look.’ She glanced over his shoulder, back towards the main passage. ‘Were you headed for lunch, by the way?’

‘Oh, er, yeah,’ Scorpius said, slightly disconcerted by her rapid change of subject, and unsure whether to laugh at what he thought was a joke. Maybe he should even have said no to her question, because that was obviously where she was going too, and his mind was going blank on polite ways to get out of walking there with her. Not that he minded _her_ , but he minded the attention it was bound to attract.

‘We should go there separately,’ she said. ‘I’ll go this way—it’s just as quick.’ She gestured behind her, then smiled as she looked at him. ‘I mean, no offence, but people are definitely going to ask questions if we turn up to lunch together. You know what it’s like.’

He did know what it was like, and he guessed she must have at least as good an idea as him of how the Hogwarts gossip mill worked. Being a Potter must make it pretty impossible to do much unnoticed. But the fact that she’d thought of it, and immediately come up with a solution, and dealt with it while he’d been floundering was—unexpected. Just like everything about this conversation. Maybe Lily Potter wasn’t quite the airhead he’d imagined.

‘Good plan,’ he agreed. ‘So, er, yeah, thanks for saying all that. And for not telling anyone. I mean, it’s not exactly a secret,’ he went on. ‘People are going to find out pretty soon. But I couldn’t deal with everyone talking about it right now.’

‘Yeah, course,’ she said, nodding. ‘I get it.’

‘Oh, hey,’ he said, a thought occurring to him. ‘Did you hear the story about someone breaking into Honeydukes?’

‘Honeydukes? No. But that’s weird.’ She frowned. ‘Rose said she saw Aurors on the third floor this morning.’

‘Really?’ Scorpius said, startled. Laetitia Mulciber might get that sort of thing wrong, but he couldn’t imagine Rose Weasley doing so. Maybe the Auror story was real after all.

‘Well, that’s what she said.’

‘You don’t know anything about it, then?’ he asked. ‘I mean, with your dad and everything.’

She shook her head. ‘No, Dad doesn’t tell us work stuff. I hope the Flumes are okay, though, and nothing bad happened. I s’pose we’ll hear about it in the end, when the papers get hold of it.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘I’d better go, though. I’ll see you around?’

Since they’d gone more than three years at school together without speaking, Scorpius couldn’t imagine that he’d suddenly be seeing her around, but he nodded.

‘Yeah. See you around.’

Danny and Calypso were already in the Great Hall when he arrived, sitting together, which was a good sign at least. They both looked up as Scorpius approached and fixed him with looks somewhere between curious and suspicious.

‘What?’ he asked, sitting down opposite them.

‘Well,’ Danny started, ‘I asked Rina where you were, since she’s in your Ancient Runes class, and she told us Lily Potter dragged you off into a broom cupboard.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Scorpius said, glaring down the table at Rina Rowle, who wasn’t looking at him. ‘It was not a broom cupboard.’

Danny and Calypso exchanged glances, and he thought it was the first time he’d seen them really united in anything since the big blow-up.

‘But it was somewhere?’ Calypso prompted.

‘It was—No! We just went around the corner. Look, she knew about my mum and the baby and everything, because Issie told her, and she was asking how they were. She was being nice, that’s all.’

They looked a little more serious at that, although Danny frowned.

‘How come Issie’s talking to Lily Potter about that stuff?’

‘Oh, long story. I think Potter found her crying about it or something, and made her go and tell Longbottom. Lily Potter’s alright,’ he added. ‘Issie likes her.’

‘But Rina was bullshitting?’ Danny pressed, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘I mean, I thought she was, because broom cupboards don’t really seem like your style, but I guess it might be Potter’s—'

‘Oh, shut up,’ Scorpius broke in resignedly. ‘Of course it was bullshit. Come on—it’s Rina and Xanthe. They always make everything into a big deal when it's not.’

‘Well, that’s good,’ Calypso said, picking up her bread roll and tearing a neat piece off it. ‘Because I think Lily Potter has a boyfriend.’

‘Yeah, and she’s also a fourth year,’ Scorpius retorted. ‘Along with a whole lot of other reasons that that’s a big no.’

He looked down the table again. Rina was still paying him no attention, but Xanthe Derrick was looking his way, and smirked as she met his eyes. Shit. If Xanthe had decided to make trouble, she’d make it thoroughly, and rumours about him and Lily Potter, of all people, were the absolute last things he needed.


	9. Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday party is planned, and Lily is horrified by the rumours going around the school about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning on this chapter for mentions of underage sex (no actual sex, to be clear, the stuff mentioned very much does not actually happen, even off-page), sexual rumours about an underage girl, and sexual language in general. gross teenagers being gross, basically. 
> 
> i hope i might still have a reader or two, despite the delays in updates due to life and nano getting in the way! please let me know if you're still here, i would love a comment or two.

  


‘Lily!’

The shriek of her name accosted Lily as she crossed the common room with Meri on her way to breakfast, making her jump. Before she could even work out who was talking to her, Sophie Longbottom was bouncing in front of her, beaming gleefully. Lily blinked at her.

‘Soph, it is way too early for you to be this happy,’ she said. ‘Or that loud.’

Sophie clearly wasn’t listening.

‘Lily, Lily, when’s your birthday?’

‘Er.’ Lily barely felt awake yet, so maybe that was why she had no idea what was going on. ‘The fourteenth of November. Why? Oh, _god_ ,’ she finished with a wince, as Sophie squealed. ‘Don’t _do_ that.’

‘Why is that so exciting?’ Meri asked.

Behind Sophie was Iseult Malfoy as usual, along with a first-year boy whose name Lily didn’t know, but who seemed to be attached to their little group. Sophie definitely did look excited, but, at Lily’s answer, Iseult had gone pink and seemed to be trying to hold back a grin.

'I _knew_ it was some time around then!' Sophie declared.

Lily looked past Sophie to Iseult.

'What's the big deal?' she asked.

Iseult smiled shyly and went even pinker.

‘My birthday’s the fourteenth too,’ she said.

‘Oh.’ Lily smiled back at her, as things made a bit more sense. ‘The same day? That’s cool.’

‘We can have a _party_!’ Sophie said, still sparkling. ‘Here, in the common room. You guys do that sort of thing, right?’

‘Oh, er, yeah, sometimes,’ Lily said, a little disconcerted by the suggestion, which she hadn't expected at all. ‘I mean, most people don't really have a big party for every birthday—there are kind of too many people in Gryffindor for that.’

‘But this is two birthdays in one!’ Sophie protested. ‘Come on, Lily—it’ll be fun!’

Lily glanced at Meri, who shrugged, her lips twitching. Then she looked back at the First Years. Sophie was unashamedly giving her puppy-dog eyes, but it was the hesitant hope in Iseult’s face that made it hard to say no. Iseult seemed like a nice kid, and she’d had a rough start to the year. And a party _would_ be fun, after all.

‘Er, yeah, sure, okay,’ she said. ‘I mean, we can do something, I guess.’

The end of her sentence was drowned out as Sophie shrieked again.

‘Yay! A party! Come on, let’s tell the others!’ She grabbed the arms of both Iseult and the boy and towed them off without giving anyone else a chance to react.

Iseult cast a backward glance over her shoulder, her face lit up with a smile, and Lily found herself smiling back, though they were gone before she could say anything else.

‘Um, _what_ just happened?’ Meri asked.

‘Guess I’m having a birthday party,’ Lily said. ‘I mean, what was I meant to say?’

‘Sharing your birthday party with a First Year. Should be fun,’ Meri said with a grin. ‘What are we going to play, Musical Chairs?’

Lily laughed, the idea seeming suddenly funny. ‘Sure, why not? I love Musical Chairs.’

‘Well, alright,’ Meri said. ‘You’d better make sure you invite people from our year too, though, or it’ll just be us sitting at a twelve-year-old’s party.’

‘No, it won’t. I mean, we’re only going to be having it here, aren’t we? Everyone’s going to be already here. It won’t even be a big deal—we can just have some cake or something, and that’ll be it. Come on. I need coffee before I can even _think_ about parties.’

By midway through her first cup, Lily had come around to the idea. Parties in the Gryffindor common room were always fun, and it would be nice to celebrate turning fifteen properly. She didn’t even mind sharing it with Issie Malfoy—it was, as she remarked to Meri, kind of cute that the kids were so excited by the fact that she and Iseult shared a birthday.

‘We could even invite some of the others,’ she said. ‘Not just Gryffindors, I mean. Like Hugo and Ninian. And Zeke,’ she added, with a slightly guilty giggle. ‘I almost forgot about him.’ She broke off, realising that Meri’s face had set into a frown. ‘I mean, I didn’t _actually_ forget about him, obviously. D’you think he’d come?’

‘I’m pretty sure he’d go into the Forbidden Forest with you if you asked him to, so yeah, I don’t think your birthday party’s going to be an issue,’ Meri said, sounding somewhat less than enthusiastic.

Lily was silent for a moment. There had been weird little moments like that for the past few weeks, where Meri had been fine one minute, then suddenly a bit off with her, as if Lily had done something to annoy her without realising it. Their minor argument the other week hadn’t helped, but Lily blamed Freya for that. She’d made a much bigger deal than necessary about where Lily had disappeared to, that morning she’d been with Sophie and Issie, which had meant that, in the end, Lily had just had to refuse point blank to tell them. Meri hadn’t gone on about it the way Freya had, but Lily thought she might have been a bit hurt, because they didn’t normally keep secrets from each other.

Was this still about that, or was Meri just irritated that Lily had momentarily forgotten about inviting Zeke? She had to remember that Zeke had been Meri’s friend before he’d been Lily’s anything, and Meri said she didn’t mind them going out, but sometimes Lily wondered if that was totally true.

‘I only thought about Hugo and Ninian first because they always come to our stuff,’ she tried, watching to see whether Meri brightened up. ‘I mean, Hugo’s my cousin, and Ninian’s always around him and Rufus, so obviously they’re going to come, but I didn’t even know if Zeke would want to. It’s not like he really has any friends in Gryffindor, I don’t think. Apart from you, obviously.’

Meri looked up from her cereal, looking, if anything, a little confused by Lily’s over-detailed explanation.

‘Lil, you can invite whoever you want. Well, you can as far as I’m concerned. Fenella might have thoughts about you bringing a whole load of Hufflepuffs into the common room, but that’s a different issue.’

Lily laughed, relieved to hear Meri sounding more like herself.

‘It’s my birthday! She can’t be mean on my birthday. Anyway,’ she added, ‘I don’t remember her stopping James from letting Polly Adams in when they were going out last year.’

‘Well, she wasn’t head girl last year,’ Meri pointed out.

They were interrupted by the sudden, ungainly arrival at the Gryffindor table of Hugo himself, who dropped down onto the bench opposite them in such a hurry that he banged his elbow, although he hardly seemed to notice. Hugo had sprouted several extra inches over the summer, and never seemed to know what to do with his arms and legs anymore.

‘Oh my god, Lily!’ he said, without waiting for a greeting, then lowered his voice just a touch as he went on. ‘Have you heard what people are saying?’

Lily blinked at him.

‘What they’re saying about—what?’

Hugo leaned across the table, his freckled face earnest.

‘About _you_! And Scorpius Malfoy. It’s not true, right? I mean, you didn’t actually, y’know, have sex with him?’

‘What?’ Lily froze with her hand halfway to the coffee jug. ‘I— _what? Who_ is saying that?’

Hugo caught himself as he appeared to register her reaction, and he glanced up and down the table.

‘Well, um, just some of the Slytherins in Defence yesterday. And then after that, people in Hufflepuff. And I think some Ravenclaws. You know—a few people. Or, like, everyone. Everyone’s saying it. But just as a joke, I think, probably.’ Hugo paused, looking warily at her. ‘I mean, you didn’t, right?’

‘Oh my god. _No_.’ Lily folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. ‘I can’t believe you’re even asking that! I didn’t—I mean, that’s—’

She broke off, swallowing. It was horrible. And ridiculous. But also _horrible_.

‘Hey, don’t blame me!’ Hugo protested. ‘I told Sycorax Montague it was bullshit.’

‘Maybe you should also have told her to stop spreading gross rumours,’ Meri put in crossly. ‘Since when is it any of their business?’

Hugo looked nettled. ‘I _did_ tell her that, actually. She just laughed at me, though.’ He shot another glance at Lily. ‘Apparently she heard it from some sixth-year girls. I don’t know where they got it from, though.’

Lily knew where they’d got it from, but she couldn’t explain even if she’d wanted to, because that would mean explaining why she’d really been talking to Malfoy. She’d known those sixth-year girls were laughing at her, but she hadn’t expected it to go around the whole school. Especially not that she’d been _sleeping_ with Malfoy, which was just _stupid_. They’d talked for all of about five minutes.

‘Well, Sycorax Montague doesn’t need an excuse to gossip about people,’ Meri said, when Lily didn’t reply. ‘Neither does half the school.’ She slipped a hand under Lily’s arm and squeezed. ‘It’s okay, Lil. All your friends are going to know it’s not true.’

Lily looked around herself. Was it her, or were some people looking at her? What exactly did Hugo mean when he said _everyone_ was saying it? Lily was used to people talking about her sometimes, but she’d never had people saying this sort of thing, and she didn’t know what to do about it, or even how to feel. Angry? Embarrassed? Upset? Well, maybe she would when the shock wore off, but now she just felt like she’d landed on a trick step on the great staircase.

‘Yeah,’ Hugo agreed hastily. ‘Course they are. I mean, obviously, I knew too, really. I just, y’know, wanted to warn you. In case someone says something. But I’ll tell them to shut up, if I hear anything.’ He looked anxiously at her. ‘Are you okay?’

Lily blinked at him, coming back to herself.

‘Yeah, I—thanks, Hugo.’ She looked from him to Meri. ‘It—it’s just a stupid rumour, right? I mean, it’s obviously not true.’

‘Of course.’ Meri nodded vigorously. ‘It’ll be fine. They’ll probably forget about it by the end of the day.’

Lily wasn’t sure that Meri sounded too sure of what she was saying, but she hoped that she was right.

  


They had Potions first, which they happened to share with the Slytherins. On the whole, Lily didn’t have a problem with most of the Slytherins in her year, although she wasn't exactly friends with any of them either, and her opinions on them varied. She had got on quite well with Elena Urquhart when they'd been paired up in Herbology the previous year, but Elena's twin brother, Emilios, was arrogant and obnoxious, and had a little gang of friends who were the same. And then there was Sycorax Montague, who had apparently been the one who had told Hugo the whole stupid story. 

Lily didn't care what Sycorax Montague thought of her, but she couldn't help realising that she did care if they were spreading things beyond their own little group, far enough for her friends and family to hear it. Far enough, as well, for Malfoy himself to have heard it, for sure. That was a very uncomfortable thought, because she assumed he'd be furious, and probably would blame her for it.

She and Meri arrived before most other people, and Lily took her usual seat next to Meri, with Claire Baynard and Freya Robbins, her friends and dorm-mates, on the far side of Meri.

‘Hey, Lily, d’you know what you’re getting for your birthday yet?’ Claire asked, as they took their seats.

Lily brightened up a little. Her birthday, at least, was a much nicer subject to think about.

‘Well, I _think_ my parents might be getting me the new Lightstrike broom, since I got onto the Quidditch team and everything. I hinted at it when I wrote to them, and they didn’t exactly say anything, but they’re pretty good like that.’ She grinned, already feeling better. ‘James’ll be jealous. It’s better than his, but he got a new broom for his seventeenth last year, so they’re not going to buy him another this year.’

Claire waved aside the talk about brooms.

‘So, did I hear you talking about a party at breakfast? Who’s coming?’

Meri laughed, but Lily only shrugged with a smile, deciding not to mention Iseult Malfoy. Claire and Freya, she was pretty sure, would be scornful of sharing a party with a First Year.

‘I haven’t really told anyone yet, so I don’t know. You guys are invited, obviously, and the boys. And I guess anyone from Gryffindor who wants to come, since it'll be in the common room, plus Hugo, and maybe the rest of my cousins. Not that many people, though.’

Freya leaned around Claire.

‘Are you inviting Zeke then, Lily?’

There was a slight rise in general volume as the door opened and a crowd of Slytherins trooped in. A small group of them, including Sycorax Montague, were giggling together, and as Lily looked, Montague glanced her way, met her eye, then turned and whispered something to Desdemona Dimitar and Ariadne Nott.

‘Ignore them,’ Meri whispered firmly.

‘I am ignoring them.’ Lily turned away from the Slytherins and faced her friends. ‘Yeah, I think it’ll be okay to invite people who aren’t in Gryffindor. I mean, I know Fenella was being super strict on that this year, but she’s not going to say anything on my birthday, is she?’

‘Well, you have to invite him to your birthday,’ Claire said. ‘I mean now that you guys are a whole _Thing_. Which I think is really cute, by the way. Are we calling him your boyfriend yet? Have you guys had that conversation? I know you've kissed him.’ She giggled in Freya's direction. 'You guys didn't exactly hide on Hogsmeade Day.'

Lily blinked, slightly startled by the question. Her friends seemed to be assuming that she and Zeke were a whole lot more serious than they actually were. Admittedly, Claire always got a bit carried away by anything romantic, but on the other hand, she was also a lot more experienced with boyfriends than Lily. _Should_ she and Zeke have had that conversation? It was an uneasy thought, because it wasn’t a conversation Lily felt ready to have.

‘Oh, no—nothing like that. I mean, we’re just—’

She broke off, distracted, as Sycorax Montague slid into a seat just across the aisle from her, with Ariadne and Desdemona beside her.

‘Hey, Potter,’ Sycorax said, turning sideways in her chair so that she was facing Lily. ‘Heard you were having some fun with Scorpius Malfoy the other day. What’s going on there, then?’

It was only Sycorax Montague, Lily told herself. She didn't matter. And if she reacted, it would just make Sycorax more sure that there was something going on.

‘Nothing,’ she said, as calmly as she could. ‘There’s nothing going on. I mean, I literally barely know him.’

‘Not what I heard.’ Emilios Urquhart, sitting in front of the Slytherin girls, tilted his chair back and twisted around to grin at Lily. ‘My cousin Rina said you came rushing up and dragged him off into a broom cupboard. Did you guys shag then, or did you just, y’know?’

He made an unmistakable sideways gesture with his hand towards his mouth, and Lily felt heat flood her face, despite herself. Why did people have to be disgusting?

‘Ew, don’t be gross, Emil,’ Ariadne Nott said, pulling a face and flicking a small piece of parchment at Emilios.

Lily felt almost friendly towards her, but Sycorax and Desdemona were laughing at the question, and so was Angus Lamont, who was sitting beside Emilios, and he grinned smugly, obviously pleased with himself.

‘I’m just saying, you seemed pretty keen for it…’

‘Oh, shut up, Urquhart,’ said Meri.

‘Yeah, just because you can’t get anyone to blow _you_ ,’ Claire put in. ‘Doesn’t mean you have to be obsessed with what other people are doing.’

Angus cracked up a little more at that, and Emilios hit him on the shoulder, which was slightly satisfying at least, but Lily wasn’t really sure how much Claire was helping. The point was that she’d never done anything like that with anyone at all, in a broom cupboard or anywhere else.

‘Thought you had a boyfriend anyway,’ Sycorax went on. ‘Or does that just not mean anything to your family? I mean, going by your brother…’

‘My brother doesn’t cheat!’ Lily broke in furiously. ‘And nor do I. I mean, for one thing, Zeke’s not even my boyfriend. But all I’ve ever done with Scorpius Malfoy is talk to him one time. For, like, five minutes. And not in a broom cupboard. I've never even _been_ in a broom cupboard.’

God, what was she saying? She'd never been in a broom cupboard? What a stupid thing to say. But they didn't seem to be taking much notice of her anyway.

‘Zeke Davies isn’t your boyfriend?’ Desdemona Dimitar leaned forwards so that she could see Lily. ‘Really? D’you always go around snogging the faces off boys who aren’t your boyfriend, then?’

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but at that moment the door opened and, to her relief, Professor Clearwater swept in, taking in the class with one glance as she headed for the desk at the front.

‘Good morning, Fourth Years. I hope you’ve all done your reading on the Pepper-Up Potion and are ready to start brewing it today. Mr Urquhart, put that chair back on four legs and face the front, please. Now, books and cauldrons out.’

Lily tried to ignore the muffled giggles and glances thrown her way by the Slytherins as she dug out the notes she’d made on Pepper-Up Potions, but it wasn’t easy.

‘You okay?’ Meri muttered, under cover of rustling pages and the clatter of cauldrons.

Lily took a breath.

‘Yeah. It’s just the Slytherins. I don’t care what Montague and Urquhart say. Or Dimitar either.’ She glanced sideways at Meri. ‘You believe me, though, right?’

‘Well, yeah.’ Meri flipped open her book to the right page and pushed it into the centre of the desk between them. ‘Of course I do. But Lil, never mind Malfoy, what’s even going on with you and Zeke? I mean, you guys have been dating a few weeks now, but you keep saying he’s not your boyfriend, so what is he?’

People kept asking her that, as if it was a nice, simple question to answer. As if she ought to know. Was there really so much wrong with enjoying hanging out with him without putting a label on it? Lily had thought it was straightforward, but now she wasn't sure she understood anything at all.

‘We’re—I don’t know, I guess we’re seeing each other or whatever. I like him, like he’s a nice guy, and we have fun. But it’s nothing _serious_ , you know?’

Meri looked worried. ‘Yeah. I get it, I guess. But just, I don’t know. Be careful, yeah?’

Lily crinkled her brow in puzzlement.

‘Careful of what? I’m fine with it, Mer—it’s everyone else who’s so worried about whether we’re something official or not.’

‘I know _you_ are.’ Meri sighed. ‘It’s just—well, I’ve known Zeke all my life, you know. And I’m not totally sure he’s thinking about it the same way you are.’

As Professor Clearwater called for quiet and the class settled down, Lily had no time to reply. But her mind was not on Pepper-Up Potions that lesson.

  


Her friends formed a close knot around her as they left the classroom, and when Emilios Urquhart called something rude about broom cupboards after her, Rufus Loach, who was built with shoulders a bit like an erumpent, got in front of Urquhart and asked if he was really asking for someone to knock his head off. Emilios, who was about half Rufus’s width and weight, quickly shut up and sloped off, to Lily’s great satisfaction.

She luckily didn’t have to share any other lessons with the Slytherins that day, but they weren’t the only ones to have heard the story, and apparently everyone was interested in a rumour that linked Lily Potter’s name to Scorpius Malfoy. Hugo seemed to have got his fellow Hufflepuffs under control, and none of them asked her anything directly, but that was almost worse, since they obviously knew, and she was sure they were whispering about it amongst themselves.

However, Maddie Fawcett, the Ravenclaw with whom Lily was paired in Charms, asked her directly whether it was true that she had dumped Zeke Davies for Scorpius Malfoy, and clearly didn’t quite believe Lily when she said that she had not. By the end of the day, Lily was very sick of the whole thing, and didn’t really feel like going back to the common room to face more stares and whispers, particularly when most of her family was likely to be there.

‘I think I’m going to go to the library and make a start on that essay Clearwater gave us,’ she told Meri, as they left Charms at half past three.

At least in the library, people could look at her, but they couldn’t talk so easily. Meri gave her an understanding look that said she’d seen through Lily’s attempt at a casual tone. Lily wasn’t a terrible student, but she didn’t normally start her homework the day it had been given, and she knew that she wasn’t a very good liar either.

‘You want me to come with you? I don’t mind.’

Lily gave her a small smile.

‘It’s okay. No, honestly. I kind of just want to be by myself for a bit.’

‘Okay. Well, just send me a glassnote if you change your mind. Otherwise, I’ll see you later.'

The quiet of the library was a relief. There was the odd murmur of voices here and there, but mostly just the sound of pages turning and the occasional scratch of a quill on parchment. Not many people were there right after lessons finished, only a few of the more studious sixth and seventh years, who’d probably had free periods last and had actually used those to study.

Lily made her way to the Potions section to hunt down the books she needed for her essay on the uses and misuses of potions to improve mood. Right at that moment, she felt that she could have done with one herself.

She rounded the corner and stopped dead. Two people she very much did not want to see were standing a little further along the same aisle, deep in conversation with a third person she vaguely recognised. Lily took a hurried step backwards. They hadn’t seen her yet, so if she just retreated back the way she’d come and—

Her back hit the shelf behind her. Crap. Lily half-turned and caught a large book before it crashed to the ground, but a smaller one slipped through her arms and landed with a thud. Frantically, she stuffed the big one back into the shelf, still hoping she might make her escape, but it was too late.

‘Oi, Lily!’

Her oldest brother’s voice was far too loud for the library, and there was no way she could pretend not to have heard. Slowly, Lily turned around, and pasted what she hoped was a surprised smile onto her face.

‘Oh, hey, Jamie. What are you doing here?’

She shot a glance behind him. She’d asked the question mainly as a distraction, but what _was_ he doing? James didn’t exactly spend a lot of time in the library, and, while seeing him with Louis was no surprise, Lily didn’t think the girl they were with was one of their friends. She was tall, with dark, curly hair swept tightly into a high bun that made her look even taller, and she wore a Ravenclaw tie. Lily thought that she was a seventh year, like James and Louis, but she’d never noticed them hanging around with her before. James was often with random girls, but if that was the explanation, he was unlikely to have brought Louis along with him. Anyway, it hadn’t looked like that. The way they’d been whispering together in a little huddle had looked more like they were up to something.

However, James didn’t seem inclined to answer the question as he came towards her, a frown on his face.

‘I was going to look for you later,’ he said, coming to a halt beside her. ‘Why the hell are there rumours about you and Scorpius Malfoy?’

The annoyance and frustration of the afternoon bubbled up in Lily.

‘God, not you as well!’ she burst out, not caring much that she too was speaking much too loudly. ‘I have not been shagging in broom cupboards—not Malfoy or anyone else! Okay?’

James’s mouth opened slightly, and he blinked, looking startled.

‘Er—okay. I mean, the story I heard was that you were going out with him, but good to know, I guess.’ A look of horrified suspicion crossed his face. ‘You haven’t—I mean, not in broom cupboards, but like—actually, never mind, I definitely don’t want to know that.’

‘ _No_.’ Lily answered the question even though he said he didn’t want to know. ‘God, why are people so gross? I’ve never—’ She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling close to tears.

‘Hey,’ James said, his tone softening slightly and his brow furrowing. ‘Are people actually saying that? Who’s saying it?’

‘Oh, just, y’know, stupid people.’ Lily sniffed and leaned back against the bookshelf. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yeah, it does.’ Louis had come up behind James, looking uncharacteristically serious. ‘That’s fucking bullshit, Lily. I’m sorry people are being dicks.’

He gave James what looked like a warning glance, but James wasn’t looking at him.

‘Why are people saying that about you and Malfoy, of all people?’ James asked. ‘I mean, please tell me you’re not actually going out with him.’

Lily, who had momentarily felt almost grateful to her brother for being something approaching sympathetic, straightened up and folded her arms across her chest, anger swelling inside her again.

‘It would be none of your business if I _was_ ,’ she snapped. ‘You don’t get to tell me who I can go out with.’

James’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not trying to tell you that. Haven’t said a thing about Zeke Davies, have I? But seriously, Lily, _Malfoy_? He’s like two years older than you, not to mention being a dick. I mean, you know he was talking shit to Louis the other week in Hogsmeade, right? Like, homophobic shit.’

‘Wait, really?’ Lily looked at Louis, distracted from her annoyance with James. She hadn’t thought Scorpius Malfoy seemed like that kind of guy.

Louis looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, it was actually Danny Urquhart who said it—’

‘Yeah, with Malfoy standing right beside him, sticking up for him.’

‘That’s Emilios and Elena Urquhart’s cousin, isn’t it?’ Lily screwed her nose up in disgust. ‘Guess being awful runs in the family.’

James shot her a glance.

‘They’re in your year, aren’t they? What have they been saying to you?’

‘Well, Elena didn’t say anything,’ Lily admitted. ‘I don’t think she would.’ Elena had paid no attention to the conversation at all, and Lily couldn’t imagine her finding jokes about blow jobs very funny, but her brother was another matter. ‘Emilios is just a gross boy.’

‘Well, most of us are.’ Louis gave her a lopsided, sympathetic smile. ‘But hey, let us know if you need us to kick anyone’s arse, yeah? I mean, I’m not up for punching fourteen-year-olds, but we could at least get Fenella to put them all in detention.’

Lily giggled, feeling slightly happier, at least with Louis.

‘Thanks. They’ll probably have forgotten about it all in a few days, though.’

‘Yeah, probably,’ Louis agreed.

‘Well, that depends,’ James said at the same moment.

Both Lily and Louis looked at him.

‘What’s that meant to mean?’ Lily asked.

‘Only that you’ve never actually told us that nothing’s happened with you and Malfoy. Like, where does a story like that even come from?’

Lily opened her mouth to deny it hotly, then changed her mind.

‘You know what, I’m not even going to tell you anything. I mean, you actually believe it might be true? You even know I’m seeing Zeke, so why would I be doing anything with Scorpius Malfoy? I don’t even know him! You pretend like you’re looking out for me, but you’re as bad as any of them, and I’m sick of it. Just mind your own business, James!’

Dimly, she noticed, as she turned away from them, that the girl they’d been talking to had vanished at some point during their conversation, but she no longer cared what her brother and cousin had been up to in the Potions section. All she wanted was to get away from them.

‘Hey, Lily!’ Louis called behind her, then, in a lower voice: ‘Seriously, James?’

It wasn’t Louis she was angry with, but she also couldn’t be bothered with him trying to make peace. Behind her, she could hear their whispered argument, but she didn't look back. James could sort himself out and come and apologise when he wanted. She was done with people and their stupid rumours.


	10. A Birthday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James makes a secret deal, Issie gets some fashion advice, and the party gets underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pronunciation guide: gormlaith is a gaelic/gaeilge (i.e. scottish or irish) name pronounced (more or less, depending on exactly where you're from) gorm-la. 
> 
> let's not talk about how long this chapter got, but the plus side is that i'm back to weekly updates.

James, coming to the end of a Transfiguration test he hadn’t prepared for in the slightest, was distracted by a small scrap of folded parchment that floated down past his face and landed on his desk.

Putting his quill down, he picked it up and unfolded it. In slightly spiky handwriting, it said simply:

_‘3 rd statue, second floor corridor, 5pm.’_

As he came to the end of it, it briefly kindled into a small flare, hot enough to make him drop it with a stifled exclamation, and when it faded, all that was left was a dusting of ash on his desk. Running his thumb carefully over slightly singed fingertips, James glanced at the front of the class to check whether Professor Shafiq had noticed anything, but she was engrossed in marking a pile of essays, so he looked over his shoulder instead.

Gormlaith Stewart, sitting a few seats further back with several other Ravenclaws, was apparently concentrating on her test, her quill moving busily, and didn’t look up at him, but he was in no doubt who’d sent it. She’d picked her moment carefully, and nobody else seemed to have noticed anything.

James brushed the ash onto the floor with his sleeve, and tried to bring his mind back to the theory of conjuring spells, a subject he was very hazy on at the best of times. After a moment or two, he gave up, scrawled his name at the top of the parchment, and sat back to watch the clock tick around to the end of the day.

She was waiting for him at five past five, leaning against the wall beside the statue and looking bored, though she glanced up as he approached, then somewhat pointedly looked at her watch.

James decided to ignore this, as he was only five minutes late, and that was only because he’d had to make excuses to his friends. Louis knew what he was doing, but the others didn’t, which James felt a little bad about, although he’d been perfectly upfront about the fact that he had a plan he wasn’t telling them. The problem was that Fenella, as head girl, would definitely feel that she had a responsibility to stop him, so he figured it was kinder—and less trouble—just not to put her in that position.

‘Hey,’ he said, giving her a grin. ‘D’you always arrange meetings with bits of burning parchment? Most people would just send a glassnote, you know.’

She raised her eyebrows at him, returning his smile with something that was more of a twitch of her lips. ‘I don’t have my Glasschat connected to yours.’

James looked curiously at her. Gormlaith Stewart was one of those people he’d shared lessons with for more than six years but, until this year, had never really had a conversation with her. He was friendly with quite a few Ravenclaws, even with one or two people who seemed also to be friends with Gormlaith, but she didn’t appear to mix much outside of her house, and he’d never noticed her at any parties or anything like that.

The only thing he knew about her was what everyone in the top couple of years at Hogwarts knew about Gormlaith Stewart, which was that if you wanted a potion— _any_ potion—she’d make it for you.

‘Well, we can connect them now, if you want,’ he suggested, digging in his pocket for his own Glasschat.

She gave him a cool glance. ‘No thanks. I priced your ingredients for you; here’s the list.’ She pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to him. ‘And the number at the bottom’s what you’ll owe me, once I’ve added in the charge for my time, and an additional one for the fact that it’s illegal.’

James read down the list and blinked. The final sum was slightly eye-watering.

‘Um—’

‘Take it or leave it,’ she countered. ‘I don’t negotiate.’

James sighed. He was starting to regret this scheme already, though it had seemed like such a good idea when he’d thought of it. There must be easier ways to get what he wanted. But he’d started now. He wasn’t going to back out.

‘Alright. But I don’t have the money on me right now.’

‘That’s okay.’ Gormlaith shrugged. ‘It won’t be done until after Christmas anyway. I need the money for the ingredients before we break up, then you can give me the rest any time before it’s done. Just so long as we’ve got a deal.’

‘After _Christmas?’_ James demanded. ‘It’s only November!’

Gormlaith gave him a withering stare. ‘Complicated potions take time.’

‘Yeah, but still. I really need this by Christmas if it’s going to work. I have to—’

‘I don’t care what you’re going to do with it,’ she interrupted. ‘I _could_ get it done before Christmas, but it needs a full moon cycle to brew, so I’d need to get it made this weekend. And if I order ingredients by express delivery, it’ll cost more. Call it ten percent extra on the total.’

James sighed again. His parents wouldn’t allow him free access to his full Gringotts account until he left school, and, although his allowance was generous, he had Christmas presents to buy, and this was going to clean him out.

‘Okay, fine.’

‘Good.’ Gormlaith pushed herself off the wall. ‘I’ll order the stuff tonight then.’

It was done now. No going back once she'd ordered things, even if he wanted to. Which he didn't, really. He could have a lot of fun with this plan, even if it didn't end up getting what he wanted. As an afterthought, he grinned at Gormlaith again.

‘By the way, if you’re interested, party in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow night. Not only for Gryffindors—there’ll be a bunch of other people there too.’

She stared at him, her face scrunching in confusion.

‘A party?’

‘Yeah, you know. Bunch of people having fun, music, dancing. Alcohol, if Louis’s plan comes through. It’s my sister’s birthday.’

‘Thanks, I do know what a party is. Isn’t your sister in fourth year?’

James waved this aside. ‘Yeah, but everyone’s invited. Starts right after dinner tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, thanks for the invite, think I’ll pass. Don’t bother trying to ask me about the potion. I’ll be in touch when it’s done.’

Without a goodbye, she turned and made off down the corridor, leaving James staring after her. 

*

Lily wanted to be excited for her party, but mainly what she felt was stressed. Hugo had got carried away when he’d heard the plan, and roped in James and Louis of all people to help, and James and Louis’s idea of a party wasn’t quite what Lily had imagined.

‘I think Hugo was just trying to take your mind off everything,’ Meri offered, as they lounged in the common room on the morning of the party.

Lily's birthday was not for two days, but it fell on a Monday, so Hugo had suggested they had it on the Saturday instead, which had somehow become an agreed plan—Lily suspected that James had supported it because it meant he could get drunk, although he’d only laughed and winked at Louis when she’d asked him.

‘Well, that’s great, but it’s still my party,’ Lily said, a little crossly, from where she lay on her back on a couch. ‘Mine and Iseult Malfoy’s, and I’m pretty sure none of them are even thinking about her. She’s twelve—she doesn’t want James’s crazy parties. I bet he hasn’t even realised it’s meant to be hers too.’

‘Maybe you should talk to him,’ Meri suggested. ‘And talking of talking to people, is Zeke coming, or—?’

Lily sighed. ‘I still can’t believe he actually had to _ask_ me if there was really anything going on with me and Malfoy. I mean, yes, he’s coming. I think we kind of sorted things out. But still.’

‘Well, to be totally fair to him,’ Meri said, ‘you’re the one who keeps saying it’s nothing serious with him.’

‘That doesn’t mean I’m out there kissing other people! Or, y’know, anything else. He ought to know that.’

‘I know, I know. I’m just saying, maybe he’s just a bit confused. But he believed you, right?’

‘Yeah, I think so,' Lily said. 'After we argued about it. I’m just sick of the whole thing. And especially of people always asking if it’s true. I mean, it’s bad enough when it’s just Sycorax Montague and Emilios Urquhart, but it’s even people like Zeke—and my family!’

‘I know,’ Meri said sympathetically. ‘It sucks. Though I don’t think any of them ever thought the _worst_ parts were true.’

‘It’s so stupid, anyway.' Lily sighed. 'The only reason people are even interested is because I’m me and he’s him. Everyone just thinks it’s super dramatic.’

She paused as the nearby portrait hole opened and her other brother came through it by himself. He spotted her and veered off from his intended direction to come towards her.

‘Hey, Lil,’ he said, leaning against the back of her sofa. ‘How’s party planning going?’

Lily stretched herself out on the sofa and looked up at him.

‘Oh, I don’t have to do anything. James and Louis and Hugo have taken it over. Not like it’s _my_ birthday or anything,’ she added with a scowl.

‘Well, you’re not meant to have to plan your own birthday party,’ he pointed out. ‘But with those three involved, it could definitely be eventful. Whose idea was it to have a party anyway?’

‘Sophie Longbottom’s, actually,’ Lily told him, giggling a little

‘Sophie?’ Albus looked confused. ‘How the hell did it go from her to James and Louis?’

Meri laughed, and Lily groaned.

‘The whole _point_ was that it’s not just for me. You know it’s Iseult Malfoy’s birthday the same day? So Sophie came up with the idea of a joint party. Only now James and Louis are taking it over and bringing alcohol and everything.’

‘You’re sharing a party with Iseult Malfoy?' Albus squinted at her. 'Bit awkward, no? Is her brother invited?’

Lily folded her arms across her chest. ‘Don’t you start too.’

He grinned, but at least looked slightly ashamed of himself.

‘Sorry. I’m not really being funny. You can do what you want, obviously. But seriously, he’s not coming, is he? I mean, nothing against him personally, but you know what some people are like. And I’m pretty sure Slytherins have never turned up to a Gryffindor party before.’

Lily hadn’t even thought of that, and it was a slightly startling idea. She didn’t particularly want Scorpius Malfoy turning up either, although, like Al, she had nothing exactly against him—except what James and Louis had told her about him and his friends in Hogsmeade, she remembered. But when she’d just managed to make things up with Zeke, and people were starting to talk about other things again, having Malfoy show up at her birthday party wouldn’t help her life much. And mixing him, James, and alcohol seemed like a bad idea.

‘I—don’t think he’s coming,’ she said slowly, although she had no idea, in fact, who Iseult Malfoy might have invited. ‘I mean, I don’t think he would.’

Even if Issie had asked him, surely Malfoy himself would have enough sense to say no. He had to know that he wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms by a lot of the older Gryffindors.

‘Well, not if he knows how to look after his own skin,’ Al agreed, then looked closely at her face. ‘You holding up okay, then? It’s not much fun having stories going round about you.’

Lily pulled a wry face. ‘Yeah. People have mostly stopped asking about it, to be honest. Thanks for not, by the way. Asking me if it was true, I mean.’

‘Well, no, I don’t normally believe stories that only came from Xanthe Derrick and Rina Rowle. By the way, I don’t know if you know, or if it helps at all, but Malfoy’s been having a pretty rough time of it too. I know it’s different for guys, but you should have heard them in Charms the other day. I think they were laying it on because I was there too and they hoped I’d react, but he was telling them to shut the fuck up before I even got the chance. Though I did afterwards too, obviously.’

It was a little bit of a help, in fact, although it made the needle of guilt a little sharper. It was her fault that there were rumours at all, but she had worried uneasily, once or twice, that he might not hate the story quite as much as she did. You just never knew with boys. The bit that really helped, though, was knowing that Al, at least, was wholly on her side. Lily gave him a small smile.

‘Thanks, Al. Hey, um,’ she added, flicking her hair out of her eyes and looking hopefully at him, ‘do you think you could maybe say something to James? Not about Malfoy, about the party, and how it’s for Iseult too.’

Al raised his eyebrows. ‘You know he doesn’t listen to me.’

‘Yes, he does!’ Lily protested. ‘I mean, sometimes. He listens to you more than he listens to me, anyway.’

‘Well, since it’s your birthday party,' he said with a sigh. 'I s’pose I’ll give it a go. No promises, though.’

Lily beamed at him. ‘You’re the best. I’m glad Saffy went for you, not for James.’

He blinked. ‘What? What does that mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Lily suddenly remembered that Saffy had heavily implied that Al didn’t know about whatever had happened with her and James in the past. ‘I’m just saying, Saffy’s got good taste. I think you guys are good together.’

Albus gave her a long stare through narrowed eyes, still looking puzzled and a little wary.

‘Right. Well, thanks, I think,’ he said slowly, straightening up. ‘I’ll um, I’ll see you later then, Lil. Though, you know, I don’t think you’re going to be able to stop James partying if he wants to party.’

‘What was that about?’ Meri asked, as Albus went on his way.

Lily looked over at her. This, at least, was something she could tell Meri without feeling too guilty, since it was only about her own brothers. And Saffy, of course, but she trusted Meri not to tell anyone else.

‘Okay, so you know Al’s going out with Saffy Jordan?’

‘Well, yeah, that’d be hard to miss. They’ve been together since last year, haven’t they?’

‘Right. But, like, a few weeks ago, at Quidditch practise, Emmy Brooke basically said that, before she was with Al, Saffy had something going on with James.’

‘Wait, _what_?’ Meri stared at her. ‘What kind of thing with James? And is that actually true, or is it just gossip? Because you ought to know how it feels to have people saying that sort of thing about you.’

There was a slightly accusing note in Meri’s voice as she finished, and Lily hurried to assure her.

‘No, it was definitely true! I don’t know what happened, exactly—Saffy said it was basically nothing. But she admitted it was something. I mean, it’s James, so you know, it could be anything.’

‘Wow.’ Meri glanced after Albus, who was disappearing up the stairs towards his dormitory. ‘It kind of sounded like, whatever it was, Albus didn’t know about it.’

‘Yeah.’ Lily looked guiltily at her brother’s retreating back. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to. But I don’t think he guessed what I meant. And it’s stupid anyway—if it was before he was even going out with Saffy, it doesn’t matter, does it? I hope he does talk to James,’ she added. ‘Tell him not to take over my party. I just want it to be fun, not too crazy.’

*

‘I wish you’d come,’ Issie said, pulling her feet up onto the bench beside her and hugging her knees to her chest.

It was mild for November, but still chilly enough that she was glad she’d put her scarf and gloves on to come out into the courtyard. Her brother’s hands were bare, and he looked a little chilly as he shoved them in his pockets and glanced sideways at her.

‘Yeah, well. Have a birthday party somewhere other than the Gryffindor Common Room and I might think about it.’

Issie rested her chin on her knees and gazed thoughtfully at him.

‘So you’d come if I had it somewhere else, even if I was still sharing it with Lily Potter?’ she asked.

He shot her a look of deep suspicion.

‘Why?’

‘I’m just asking—’

‘Yeah, well, don’t ask,’ he told her, giving her a glare that she thought was supposed to be crushing. ‘Mind your own business instead.’

Issie grinned. ‘You know, you don’t have to be grumpy about it. Lily’s nice.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he said.

‘And pretty,’ she persisted, watching him carefully.

‘For god’s sake, Issie.’

He had buried his face half into his own scarf, and it might have been just the cold wind, but Issie thought that what she could see of his cheeks had gone slightly red.

‘I’m just saying, if you were going to have a girlfriend, I think she’d be a good choice. And so would you, as a boyfriend,’ she added kindly, trying not to giggle.

Scorpius put his weight onto his feet and started to push himself up from the bench.

‘You know what, if this is how the conversation’s going, I’m leaving.’

‘No, no!’ She grabbed at his arm. ‘I’m sorry! I’ll stop, I promise.’

He let her pull him back down, although he was still looking grumpy.

‘Have you ever had a girlfriend?’ Issie asked curiously. ‘You never talked about anyone.’

‘That’s _not_ stopping,’ he informed her, very definitely going red that time.

It didn’t answer her question, and Issie was genuinely curious, but she sighed. It didn’t seem like she was going to get anything out of him at all. Several people, over the last couple of weeks, had asked her if she knew whether the rumours were true, and she had had to regretfully say that she didn’t think they were. It was a shame, though. Lily had been so nice to Issie, that day that Caelum had been born, and then actually wanting to share a party with her; it would be lovely if she and Scorpius went out.

However, Issie knew when she couldn’t push her brother any further.

‘I’m never having a boyfriend,’ she said decisively instead.

He cast her an amused look. ‘Okay. If you say so.’

‘I’m not,’ Issie insisted. ‘Sophie and Sam and Tiggi and everyone go on about boys, but it’s just _weird_.’

‘Well, yeah, it is kind of weird when you’re all eleven,’ he agreed. ‘That Antigone kid’s being nicer to you now, then?’

‘Yeah, kind of.’ Issie pulled a face. ‘I mean, she is, I guess. I don’t think she hates me anymore. Sophie and Jake are my best friends, though. And some of the Second Years have actually been really nice too. They’re coming to my party.’

She didn’t bother to mention exactly which Second Years, since they included Lily’s cousin Lucy, and Scorpius didn’t ask, only smiled at her, seeming to relax now that they weren’t talking about him anymore.

‘That’s good. I’m glad you’ve got friends. I mean, not like I thought you wouldn’t. But I thought the Gryffindors might be a bit more, y’know…’

‘A bit more what?' Issie scowled at him. 'What are you saying about Gryffindors?’

Scorpius raised his eyebrows at her.

‘D’you really want me to answer that?’

‘Shut up.' She kicked him gently. 'Just you wait, I’m going to bring Caelum up to be a Gryffindor, like me.’ Thinking about her little brother, still in St Mungo’s, brought a little cold breath of sadness with it. ‘Hey, d’you think Caelum’ll be home for Christmas?’

Scorpius also looked more serious.

‘I don’t know,’ he said quietly. ‘I hope so. He _is_ getting better, Is. They’re not just saying that.’

She nodded, swallowing. Christmas would be a bit miserable if Caelum was still in hospital for it. They hadn’t even been able to hold him yet.

‘Sometimes I feel like he’s not really real yet,’ she confessed. ‘Like, we have a baby brother, but it doesn’t feel like we do. I don’t totally believe in him, because we haven’t met him properly, you know?’

He looked at her, seeming surprised.

‘Yeah. I know what you mean, actually. I’m sure it’ll change once he’s at home and everything, though. And we should be able to see him at Christmas, at least, whether he’s home or not.’

Issie nodded, although inside she still desperately hoped he wouldn’t need to stay in hospital. It wouldn’t be the same at all if he did.

‘Did you get me something for my birthday?’ she asked instead, not quite trusting herself to talk about Caelum.

He grinned at her.

‘Nah, I figured all your new Gryffindor friends would have that covered, so I didn’t bother—’ He broke off as she kicked him again, a little harder. ‘Yeah, course I got you something, stupid. You’re not getting it yet, though. Your birthday’s not until Monday. If you’re having your party today, does that mean you’re free on your actual birthday? We could meet after lessons again.’

Issie nodded, cheering up. After all, there was still more than a month until Christmas. Plenty of time for things to change. And in the meantime, it was almost her birthday, and tonight she’d be having her party with Lily, and Lucy and the others had promised to come, as well as just the other First Years. Of course, Lucy would be coming as much for Lily as for Issie, but still. It felt nice to have friends.

‘What are you wearing, Issie?’ Sam asked, from the cubicle beside Issie’s.

Issie, sitting on her bed and petting Morgan as she waited for the others to be ready to go down to dinner, looked at Sam in surprise, then down at her usual comfortable leggings and jumper.

‘Just these. Why?’

‘But your party starts right after dinner!’ Sam protested. ‘Aren’t you going to get changed?’

Issie pulled a face. At home, she was always made to put on something smart for parties. One advantage of having it at school, she’d thought, was that nobody was trying to get her into frilly skirts or long socks—and, with it being in Gryffindor Tower, there would also be no Eris Montague or Lilith Avery to giggle at her if she went in leggings.

‘I don’t like party dresses,’ she said.

She glanced at Sam, who was wearing, not exactly a party dress, but a denim tunic dress over tights and a flowery top. Definitely too ‘Muggle’ for her grandmother to approve of, but still a dress.

‘I mean, I like them for other people,’ she clarified. ‘Just not wearing them.’

Sophie emerged from behind her curtains, wearing only her vest and knickers, a frequent sight in the dorm, since she was always getting distracted halfway through getting dressed.

‘It’s your birthday, though, Is,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you going to wear _something_ special?’

‘I don’t have anything special,’ Issie said, with absolute truth.

Her mother had tried to help with her packing, but she’d been ill, and Dad had taken no notice, so Issie had just casually contrived to forget anything from her mum’s checklist that she didn’t want to take, including her dress robes—who even wore dress robes these days?—and the three fancy party frocks Grandma had bought for her in the summer, which Issie had stuffed to the back of her wardrobe in the hopes that nobody would ever find them again.

Antigone crossed the room and stood at the end of Issie’s bed, one hand on her hip. She was wearing a blue, velvet dress with a flared skirt, and, with the additions of lip gloss and mascara, looked about fourteen.

‘Well, you can’t go like that,’ she said firmly. ‘You’ve got cat hair on your leggings.’

Issie bristled, but Antigone whisked around without waiting for a reply, and pulled open the wardrobe opposite Issie’s bed, peering inside at the contents.

‘You actually have no dresses,’ she said, in a tone of incredulity.

Issie glowered at her back.

‘I told you. I don’t like dressing up.’

Tiggi turned back towards her, seemed about to say something, then thought better of it, examining Issie’s face carefully.

‘Okay. No dresses. Got it. But you’ve got those nice jeans you wore the other week, the ones with the patches.’

The corner of Issie’s mouth twitched up. She liked those jeans, but ‘nice’ was not the word any of her family had used about them. Most of her favourite clothes had been bought with resigned sighs from her mum.

‘And then—wait! I know!’ Tiggi spun back around to the wardrobe, and pulled out a plain white, long-sleeved top and throwing it onto the bed beside Issie.

‘It’s not very colourful,’ Sophie said critically.

Tiggi took no notice, other than to give Sophie a look of scorn, but headed for her own wardrobe. Issie slowly uncrossed her legs and went to pull her jeans out of a drawer. She was still unconvinced that she liked whatever Tiggi’s plan was, but the jeans were, she had to admit, probably a better idea than her fluff-covered leggings.

‘Here.’ Tiggi returned with a neat little black waistcoat, cinched at the waist, with two small, silver buckles, which she laid on top of the white top. ‘I’m taller than you, but that doesn’t matter much for a waistcoat.’ She looked expectantly at Issie.

‘It’s—okay, yeah,’ Issie admitted, a little reluctantly. ‘I like it. But is it okay for me to borrow it?’

Tiggi looked pityingly at her.

‘Of course, or I wouldn’t have offered, would I? Now try it with the jeans.’

Issie resented, slightly, being bossed around by Antigone, but on the other hand, it was nice of her to offer her own clothes—and anyway, Issie found that she did want to try the outfit on.

At the beginning of the term, she’d carefully drawn the curtains around herself whenever she was getting changed, but she’d got over feeling shy with her dormmates. There wasn’t much point, when Sophie was parading around the dorm in her underwear every day. Quickly, she pulled her leggings and jumper off, and the clothes Tiggi had selected on, and turned to look in the mirror.

It was definitely not an outfit that her grandmother—or even her parents, probably—would consider suitable for a party, but Issie found that she liked what she saw. The jeans, which had a purple cat patch on one thigh and paw prints up the other leg, stopped it from being too formal, and made her feel comfortable in it, but Tiggi’s waistcoat changed it from an outfit she might wear to go for dinner on a normal day to something special enough for a party.

Tiggi crouched beside her and, before Issie could protest, was rolling up the wrinkled part of the jeans at the bottom, cuffing them just above her ankles.

Sam and Sophie crowded in behind, looking at Issie's reflection.

‘I think it’s nice,’ Sam said.

‘Yeah,’ Sophie agreed. ‘Though I still think you should have some more colours.’

‘Don’t listen to her,’ Tiggi said to Issie. ‘It’s good like it is.’ She stood up and met Issie’s eyes in the mirror, seeming almost anxious. ‘What d’you think?’

‘I like it,’ Issie said decisively. ‘I hate wearing dresses, but this looks like _me_.’ She smiled into the mirror. ‘Thanks, Tiggi.’

Tiggi smiled back, looking satisfied.

‘Okay, now, what about shoes?’

‘My trainers,’ Issie said, very firmly.

Tiggi sighed.

‘Fine. I s’pose that’ll look okay.’ She glanced over her shoulder at Sophie. ‘What are _you_ wearing? Or are you going down like that?’

Issie was glad she’d let Tiggi boss her into wearing something a bit nicer in the end, because most other people seemed to have made a bit of an effort too. Most of Gryffindor also seemed to have turned up—Issie assumed for Lily more than for her—as well as quite a few people from other houses. As she and the other first-year girls crossed the common room, she saw Pádraig and Artemis ushering in Lucy Weasley, Max Bailley and Matilda Thomas through the Portrait Hole. Lucy, who, along with Max, had copious quantities of glitter stars all over her cheeks, spotted Issie and made a beeline for her, clutching two very large, floating balloons, one red and one gold.

‘Hey, Issie, happy birthday!’ she said, holding out the red balloon. ‘Here, I got you this!’

Issie, slightly surprised by both the fact that Lucy had got her a gift and the nature of the gift, took the proffered ribbon.

‘Oh, um, thanks,’ she said, but her words were drowned out as the balloon immediately burst into a loud and off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’.

People nearby turned to look and grin, and Issie felt herself blush slightly, although she laughed, looking up at the balloon as it came to the end of its song. As soon as it had done so, it burst with a loud pop, showering Issie in red and gold glitter. Issie stood there, blinking, too surprised to react for a moment. Then she looked at Lucy, who was grinning hopefully at her. The other Second Years, in a crowd behind her, seemed unsure whether to laugh or not.

Issie, getting over her shock, started to giggle, and Lucy looked relieved.

‘Told you she’d like it!’ she announced, nudging Tilly Thomas. ‘Come on, now I need to give Lily hers!’

‘Ugh, now my waistcoat has glitter on it,’ Tiggi complaining, as they set off, en masse, to follow Lucy across the common room.

Lucy looked over her shoulder.

‘So use _Scourgify_!’

‘We haven’t learnt that yet,’ Tiggi protested.

‘Neither have we,’ Tilly pointed out. ‘But I’m sure one of the older ones’ll do it for you.’

Lily, looking very pretty in a long-sleeved, knee-length white dress and gold heels, her hair—usually straight and either loose or tied in a casual ponytail—swept up into a cascade of curls, was at the centre of a crowd of older students, including a good-looking boy who, to Issie's slight disappointment, after her conversation with Scorpius earlier, had his arm around Lily's waist. Issie felt suddenly very shy as she followed Lucy up to them. Most of the older ones, she was sure, considered this Lily’s party, not Issie’s.

However, Lily looked around and smiled as they approached, making eye contact with Issie first.

‘Hey!’ she said. ‘Nice outfit.’ Her eyes travelled on to Lucy, and she sighed. ‘Seriously, Luce? I mean, even if I hadn’t just _watched_ you pull that one on Issie, I know you got those from Uncle George’s shop.’

‘You can’t say no to a balloon on your birthday, Lily!’ protested a tall, curly-haired boy that Issie thought was Lily and Lucy’s cousin Hugo.

There was a chorus of laughter and encouragement from the group around them.

‘Go on, Lily, take the balloon!’

‘Get it over with.’

‘It’s only a bit of glitter!’

Lily rolled her eyes, but she was laughing, and she took the gold balloon from Lucy’s hand, then stood there in resignation as it finished its song and showered her, and the boy beside her, with the same glitter as Issie.

Brushing some of it out of her hair, she looked at Issie with a rueful smile.

‘Well, now we match, I guess.’

Issie grinned at her.

‘Can you help me get it off Tiggi’s waistcoat later, please?’

‘Yeah, course.’ Lily stopped and hesitated. ‘Actually, I’m not that great at _Scourgify_ , but Meri will, right, Mer?’ she said to the girl on her other side, whom Issie now knew to be Meri Hewitt, Lily’s best friend.

‘Sure.’ Meri gave Issie a smile.

‘You can do my dress at the same time,’ Lily said, twisting to inspect her shoulders and back, liberally scattered with sparkles.

‘I could do that for you too,’ the boy with his arm around her said, apparently unfazed by the fact that he had also been caught in the cloud of glitter and had it all down one side of his shirt.

‘Oh, thanks.’ Lily smiled brightly up at him, then looked around herself. ‘Hey, has anyone seen Al? I wanted to ask him something.’

‘Not since before dinner,’ a tall, red-haired girl with a purple eyebrow stud—Rose Weasley, Issie remembered—said, glancing around with a slight frown. ‘Actually, I haven’t seen Saffy either. I think they might have had a fight or something. Al was being really weird earlier.’

The conversation did not include the First and Second years, and Issie didn’t mind too much when Lucy grabbed her arm and started to pull her away.

‘Come on, let’s put some good music on!’

There was always a radio in the corner of the common room, but today someone had apparently charmed it, so that the sound came loud and clear from every corner of the room, and set up a comprehensive list of music, both magical and Muggle, that was selectable-from by turning various dials on the radio. Pádraig and Artemis seemed to understand exactly how it all worked, and crouched in front of it, turning knobs, while the others suggested names of songs.

Close beside them, voices came down the stairs from the dorms, and Fenella Belby appeared with one of her friends. She glanced over the little group around the radio and sighed deeply.

‘Seriously?’ she said. ‘How many times do I have to say that you can’t give the password out to non-Gryffindors?’

Pádraig glanced over his shoulder.

‘We didn’t give them the password!’ he protested, then grinned. ‘We just let them in the Portrait Hole.’

‘You get how that’s no different, right?’ Fenella started.

Lucy turned towards her with an angelic smile.

‘Sorry, Fenella,’ she said. ‘We’ll go if you want us to. But I assume the others’ll have to leave too, then?’

Fenella’s eyes narrowed.

‘What others?’

Lucy looked back over to the group around Lily.

‘Um. Hugo, Roxie, Ninian Penhallow, Ruth Kerr, Zeke Davies, Ira Finnigan, Gordon McLaggen, Aidan Longbottom—’

‘Okay, okay. I see them,’ Fenella interrupted, as her friend laughed.

‘ _Or_ ,’ Lucy went on, all innocence, ‘you could actually not kick any of us out, and instead you could go and ask Louis what he’s putting in the punch.’

‘What?’ Fenella looked around, and her eyes fell on Louis Weasley, who was busy pouring a bottle of something into a large cauldron set up on a table on the far side of the room. ‘Oh, bloody hell.’ She looked back at Lucy. ‘You know what? Fine. You can stay, just this once. Just, none of you touch that punch, okay?’

Issie had no interest in touching the punch, and was having plenty of fun without it, bouncing around with her friends to the music. There was pumpkin juice too, and also orange juice, since both Jake and Sam turned their noses up at pumpkin juice, as well as cake, so she was perfectly happy to leave the mysterious mixture in the cauldron for the older ones.

Lucy, at one point, convinced her cousin Louis to let her have a taste from his cup, and pulled a face that made him laugh.

‘God. What is _in_ that?’ she asked.

He grinned at her.

‘Never you mind. Just don’t tell your mum and dad I let you try it.’

‘It’s disgusting anyway,’ Lucy proclaimed to the rest of them. ‘I don’t know why they want to drink that stuff. Especially when it just makes them all act stupid.’

Issie tended to agree, but even Lily appeared to be enthusiastically taking cupfuls of it, and if Fenella had made any attempt to get her own friends to tone it down, she had clearly failed. A few hours into the party, a lot of the older students were definitely drunk. James Potter had organised some sort of game that involved levitating a full cup of alcohol to bump against your opponent’s cup and make it spill, and the first person with nothing left in their cup—or to lose concentration and let it fall—had to drink whatever was left in the other person’s. It was very messy, but quite fun even just to watch, and even Fenella herself had been persuaded to join in.

‘Hey!’

Jake Nelson plumped himself down on the sofa beside Issie, where she had sat down to rest, watch the cup game and eat a cauldron cake.

She turned around with a smile.

‘Oh, hey.’

Jake leaned towards her.

‘Hey, you’ve still got that map, right?’ he said, his voice masked by the music, close enough to her ear that nobody else would hear.

Issie looked curiously at him.

‘Yeah, why?’

She glanced around. It actually would have been a good opportunity to put it back at that moment, since she didn’t think anyone would notice, but she also thought that Lucy and the others had forgotten she still had it, and the temptation to just hang onto it was too strong.

Jake grinned.

‘Okay, so, apparently Zonko’s joke shop—it’s in Hogsmeade, d’you know about it?—is having a massive sale starting this weekend. Like, loads of stuff sold off for almost nothing. I heard some of the Third Years complaining about how there’s no Hogsmeade weekend for another month, and everything good’ll be gone by then. So… we never did use that secret passage that goes to Hogsmeade, did we?’

Issie hesitated. Using the map to explore the school was one thing. Using it to sneak out to Hogsmeade was a very different one, and she thought they’d be in a lot of trouble if they got caught. On the other hand, it did sound like fun.

‘We could,’ she said slowly. ‘You, me and Sophie? We’d have to be really careful, though.’

‘I bet all the older ones are going to sleep half of tomorrow,’ Jake predicted. ‘They’ll all have hangovers after this. We could definitely do it without getting spotted.’

Issie grinned, making her mind up. It _was_ her birthday week, after all.

‘Okay. Let’s do it.’

‘Hey, you two!’ Artemis Loach appeared suddenly, leaning over the back of their sofa. ‘We’re all going up to my dorm! D’you want to come?’

Issie twisted around. ‘Why? The party’s still going on!’ she protested.

Artemis pulled a face. ‘Yeah, but they’re just all getting drunker and drunker now. Anyway, it’s Saturday so the teachers won’t come around to check the common room until midnight, but Lucy reckons that by eleven, which is in—’ She checked her watch. ‘—twenty minutes, Fenella’s going to start making the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws leave. So we thought we’d hide them upstairs,’ she finished, grinning.

Twenty to eleven. Issie was actually quite sleepy, but she didn’t want to admit that to Artemis. And she did want to go and hang out in the second-year dorm with Lucy and the others.

‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘Where’s Sophie?’

‘Already over there with Lucy. Come on, before anyone notices where we’re going.’ And Artemis vanished again.

Issie and Jake followed her over to where Lucy, Sophie, and the rest of Lucy’s usual crowd were waiting by the bottom of the stairs. Issie felt a little thrill to have been included in this exclusive little group—maybe it was because they were friends with Sophie, or maybe it was because they’d helped to steal the map, but Lucy seemed to have decided that the three First Years counted as friends.

‘Did you know,’ Lucy said, as they climbed the stairs, leaving the noise of the party behind them, ‘that until they rebuilt Hogwarts after the war, girls could go into the boys’ dorms, but boys couldn’t go into the girls’?’

‘Why?’ Jake asked.

Lucy grinned over her shoulder at him.

‘You know. So people couldn’t do things they shouldn’t together.’

‘Oh.’ Jake sounded no less confused, then his face cleared. ‘ _Oh_. But— What was the point, if it wasn’t for both?’

‘Sexism,’ Tilly Thomas said. ‘That’s all. I guess they thought it was easier than just teaching boys not to be pervs.’

‘And homophobia,’ Max put in. ‘I mean, y’know, if you’re assuming only boys and girls…’

‘What are you all talking about?’ Sophie asked, sounding mystified. ‘I don’t get it. Why shouldn’t people go in other people’s dorms, if they’re invited?’

‘Never mind, Soph,’ Pádraig said comfortingly, patting her shoulder as they came to the second-year landing.

Artemis and Lucy led the way into the dorm—Lucy had clearly been there before, as she knew exactly which door it was—and Sophie turned puzzled eyes on Issie.

‘ _Kissing_ ,’ Issie whispered hollowly.

‘Oh.’ Sophie went pink. ‘Well, that’s just—ugh. That’s stupid.’

Issie had intended her whisper only for Sophie, but Pádraig and Artemis had both laughed, and Lucy, flinging herself onto Artemis’s bed, grinned at them.

‘Yeah, very stupid,’ she said. ‘Anyway, good thing they changed it. Now I guess they just rely on everyone to be sensible.’

‘And the prefects to make sure people keep the rules,’ Tilly added.

‘The prefects who are downstairs getting drunk, right,’ Lucy agreed. ‘Those prefects.’

Issie giggled with the rest of them as they settled themselves on beds and the floor

‘Okay, so I’ve got a game,’ Lucy said. ‘You have to sing a bit from a song and keep going until someone gets the name of the song.’ She grabbed Artemis’s hairbrush off the bedside cabinet. ‘Here’s the mic. Pádraig, you first.’ She threw the hairbrush at a protesting Pádraig. ‘Go!’


	11. Bad Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past mistakes catch up with certain people, with disastrous consequences. Meanwhile, old friends arrive back in Britain.

The party was going brilliantly, and James was inclined to take the credit for himself and Louis. Left to themselves, he suspected that Lily and her friends would have ended up with something that was barely a party at all. Albus had, with typical, boring Albus-ness, tried to get James to back off on the party planning, but now James felt that he could say with satisfaction that his plans were validated—although, admittedly, he had not yet seen Al here to gloat. Which was weird, since it wasn’t like Al to skip out on Lily’s birthday party.

However, James had had enough of Louis’s speciality punch that Al’s absence wasn’t worrying him much. The music was turned up, he was having fun, and even Fenella, several drinks in, had relaxed enough to enjoy herself, even if she did keep insisting that they needed to wind things down by eleven thirty.

James, his cup empty, left the dance floor in the middle of the room and lurched over to the drinks table, where Lily was wound around a boy James assumed was What’s-his-name Davies.

‘Oi, lovebirds,’ James interrupted them, elbowing Lily in the back, even though there was actually plenty of room to get past them. ‘Out the way.’

Lily broke away and half-turned, glaring at him.

‘We’re not _in_ the way,’ she said, with enough of a slur to her voice that James’s eyebrows shot up, his grin growing.

‘Are you _drunk_?’ He shook his head with fake sorrow. ‘What’d Mum and Dad say, hm? Their innocent little girl…’

‘’M not drunk,’ she said, with an attempt at dignity, freeing herself a little further from Davies’s arms, although he was trying to pull her back. ‘I’ve only had what—whatever this is. Basically juice.’

She waved an almost empty punch cup in his face, and James chuckled at her, then turned to Davies, pretending not to notice that the other boy would much rather James went away.

‘Lil, you haven’t introduced us. Davies, I’m assuming. James Potter. Good to meet you.’ James held out his hand, with an effort at sounding serious. ‘Hope my sister’s not taking advantage of you.’

‘Oh, go _away_!’ Lily shoved him, without giving Davies a chance to reply.

James was drunk enough himself that he staggered and had to grab the table to stay upright.

‘What so you can go back to sticking your tongue down his throat?’ He steadied himself, unabashed, and filled his cup up from the cauldron.

Lily flipped her middle finger at him, making him laugh, and she pushed Davies away from him. James watched her go, still half-laughing, then turned away, taking a mouthful of his drink as he surveyed the room for a moment.

‘Hey!’

He jerked his head round to find that Rose had crept up at his elbow, moving silently, as she frequently did.

‘Hey,’ James said, grinning affably at her. ‘How’s it going?’

Rose’s eyes had wandered after Lily and Davies.

‘Guess that’s a fixed thing, then,’ she said, sounding amused. ‘Little Lily, growing up.’

‘It won’t last,’ James predicted.

Rose raised an eyebrow at him.

‘How come? I mean, she’s like fifteen, so yeah, probably not, but why are _you_ so sure?’

He shrugged.

‘She’s not that into him.’

‘Really?’ Rose grinned, looking at where Lily and Davies were now locked together again at the other side of the room.

‘Well, that way, maybe.’ James pulled a face. ‘Wish she’d go somewhere the rest of us don’t have to see it, but yeah. She doesn’t _like_ him, like him. Snogging him doesn’t mean anything.’

He was sure that he was right. Not that he ever talked to Lily about that sort of thing, but she didn’t show any signs of some grand first love. And Davies seemed almost completely uninteresting.

‘Well, you’d know about that,’ Rose commented.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ James scowled at her, remembering suddenly something he’d forgotten in the haze of fun and alcohol, which was that he suspected Rose of having stolen his map.

She grinned.

‘Surprised you’re not off in some dark corner with some deluded girl yourself, that’s all.’

James took another swig, pushing down the temptation to demand the truth about the map. He had a plan, and he needed to stick to it. And Rose was too good at games to admit anything anyway, even drunk—which he wasn’t even sure if she was or not. He was too drunk himself to tell.

‘Fuck off,’ was all he said, regretting that he hadn’t been able to come up with a better retort off the top of his head. Hooking up wasn’t even part of his goals for the evening, and there was nobody he was particularly interested in right now, so Rose could take her snide comments somewhere else.

‘So you don’t think the stories about Lily and Malfoy are true, then?’ Rose asked, taking a sip of her own drink.

‘Nah. I don’t think so.’ James shrugged. ‘I wondered at first, but she keeps saying no, and she can’t lie for shit. Plus, Davies obviously doesn’t think they’re true, does he?’

‘Well, no. He could just be an idiot, but I don’t think Lily’d play someone like that, even if she’s not that into him. For one thing, she couldn’t. Like you say, shit liar. By the way, have you seen Al?’ she added, changing the subject and looking around with a slight frown.

James let himself be distracted, since it was something he’d wondered about vaguely himself.

‘No. S’weird. Why would he not come to Lily’s party? He was even going on about it earlier.’

‘Saffy’s not here either.’

‘Oh.’ James digested this. ‘Well. Still weird. I mean, they can do whatever they’re doing any night of the week. Why go off when it’s Lily birthday? Al doesn’t do shit like that.’

‘I dunno.’ Rose shook her head. ‘I think something’s—’

James looked curiously at her as she broke off.

‘Something’s what? Not trouble in paradise?’ he asked, with a grin.

She shot him a sharp glance.

‘Don’t be a dick. You’ve always been off about Al and Saffy.’

‘What? No, I haven’t!’ he protested. ‘I mean, I think they’re a bit of a weird couple, but that’s not—’

‘Yeah, whatever,’ Rose interrupted. ‘I’m going to see if Saff answers her Glasschat.’

James stared after her for a moment as she left him with a purposeful stride, presumably to find somewhere quieter. Rose usually let people look after their own business, so the fact that she was chasing after Saffy suggested that she was actually worried, although he wasn’t entirely sure what she was worried about. Nothing had seemed wrong with Al and Saffy the last time James had seen them together—they’d been as sickening as always. And what did she mean, he’d always been _off_ about them? He definitely hadn’t. Anyone could see that they were slightly mismatched—Al with his books and his tendency to take everything too seriously, and Saffy Jordan, who had always been the light of the party. He wasn't the only person to have thought that.

And his own brief history with Saffy meant nothing at all and never had. Was it slightly weird? Yeah, maybe, but if it didn’t bother her, why should it bother him? It didn’t affect what he thought about it all. It wasn’t like he still fancied her—or ever really had, except in the most casual and fleeting way. And he was fairly sure that Al didn’t even know about it, although Rose almost certainly did.

The music changed to a faster song, and James shook himself out of it and set off in a wavering path back towards the dancing. He had only gone a few paces, however, when the nearby Portrait Hole opened. For a moment, James paused, thinking it might be a teacher come to check on them early, but the person who appeared was none other than Saffy herself.

‘Hey, Saffy!’ James called to her. ‘Rose is looking for you!’

He wasn’t sure whether she’d heard him over the music, but her eyes fell on him and she came towards him. As she got closer, James could see that her face was set and stormy. In fact, as she pushed past him and made for the drinks table he'd just vacated, he thought she might even have been crying. Jesus, what had happened? Maybe Rose had been right to be worried.

James turned back and, stumbling only slightly, came up behind her.

‘Hey, what’s up with you?’

Saffy scanned the table, picked up a bottle of neat firewhisky, unscrewed the top, and tilted it straight into her mouth.

‘Whoa!’ James stared at her. ‘Slow down, Saff! What happened?’

She turned slowly towards him, her eyes large over the rim of the bottle, and he thought she might actually be already slightly drunk, although maybe she was just very upset. He wasn’t sure how and where she’d have got drunk, since this was apparently her first arrival at the party.

The room was spinning slightly around him, and his thoughts were disjointed, but walking away and leaving her in this state didn’t seem like an option.

‘Hey, come on,’ he said, taking her shoulder gently and steering her towards the nearest sofa. ‘Why don’t you, er, I dunno, sit down.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the Portrait Hole. ‘Is Al—’

Saffy had been letting him move her towards the sofa, though she resisted his attempt to take the firewhisky bottle off her, but at Al’s name, she stopped dead.

‘Al!’ she snarled. ‘Fucking Albus—’

She gave up suddenly and slumped onto the sofa. James sat down beside her, perched on the edge of the cushion as he scanned the room anxiously for someone who would be better at this than him. Rose or Emmy, even Fenella or Louis. But none of them were anywhere near. What the fuck had Albus done?

‘Listen,’ he said, floundering. ‘I mean, whatever happened—’

He wasn’t sure exactly where the sentence was going, but she didn’t let him finish it anyway.

‘I’ll tell you what _happened_ ,’ she said. ‘He broke up with me. Dumped me. Just like that. Fine yesterday, over today.’ She lifted the bottle and took another long drink.

James stared at her.

‘Wait, what? Are you serious?’

Saffy and Al had been together for—well, months now. And if either of them had been going to end it, James wouldn’t have put his money on Al.

‘Yeah, I’m very serious.’ Saffy let out a laugh that was too loud and harsh to ring true. ‘And so was he.’

‘Hey, look, I’m sure you guys can sort things out,’ James tried.

‘No, we can’t _sort things out_.’ Saffy leaned forwards and jabbed him in the chest. ‘You wanna know why we broke up? Because of _you_.’

‘Because of—Oh. Oh, shit.’ James felt his heart sink. ‘How the hell did he—’

‘I have no idea.’ Saffy took another drink, spreading her other arm out helplessly, and if she hadn’t been drunk before, she was definitely getting there now, chugging firewhisky like it was pumpkin juice. ‘He was weird with me all day, and then after dinner he said he wanted to talk, and you know—you _know_ that never means anything good. So then we went for a walk and he just came out and asked me if—if there’d ever been anything with me and you, and—’

‘And you told him?’ James broke in incredulously.

‘Well I couldn’t lie to his fucking face, could I?’ she snapped. ‘I told him the truth and it’s so… so _stupid_ , because it was ages ago, before I was going out with him, before I even knew I liked him, okay? I mean, it was just—just—’

She waved her arms again and James had to duck to avoid being brained by the firewhisky bottle.

‘Yeah, I know,’ he said hastily. ‘Like, yeah, obviously. But he didn’t—’

‘You know what he’s like,’ she said bitterly. ‘He’s so fucking good and kind and sensible and _perfect_ all the time, like he never does anything stupid, he never makes a bad decision—and he genuinely doesn’t, he just does the right thing _every_ time, and it’s fucking _exhausting_. Like how is anyone meant to live up to that?’

‘Yeah, well, you don’t need to tell me about that,’ James agreed. ‘And, like, when he looks at you with that judgey face he’s got? Fucking annoying.’

‘ _Exactly._ ’ Saffy slumped against the back of the sofa, listing slightly towards James. ‘Like, god, sorry we’re not all as perfect as you, Al. Sorry I made one fucking bad decision an entire year ago! Sorry if you thought I was as—as sensible and—and _pure_ as you!’

‘Hey, now,’ James said, leaning back himself, and trying for a lighter tone. ‘Bad decision? That’s me you’re talking about. Also, Al might like to act all bloody righteous, but he has definitely made mistakes and done stupid stuff too. Which, okay, just makes it more annoying when he acts like he hasn't, but still.’

Maybe he should be more supportive of Al. But he had such stupidly high standards, for himself and for everyone else, and at the end of the day, James and Saffy had done absolutely nothing wrong, so it was beyond ridiculous for Albus to react this way. Breaking up with her over something that had happened before they even got together? It was the stupidest thing James had ever heard, but she was right, that was just Albus, making a big deal out of every small thing.

Saffy’s laugh was half a sob.

‘I just—I can’t believe that’s _it_. Like, he finds out one thing I did, and we’re over, forever. Like—like how was I ever gonna measure up to that? I feel stupid that I even tried!’

‘Look,’ James started, leaning forwards towards her and feeling much too drunk to be having this conversation. ‘You’re not stupid. He’s stupid. I mean, who the fuck does he think he is, judging you?’

She looked at him, and there was a strange expression in her eyes. She was upset, she was angry, those things were clear, but there was something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something wild and reckless and challenging, although James wasn’t certain that the challenge was for him.

‘Fuck him,’ she said clearly. ‘Fuck everything.’

Then she was leaning forwards, her hand was on his chest, and, before he quite knew what was happening, her lips were against his.

For one beat, James froze, letting it happen.

For a second, longer beat, he responded automatically, alcohol coursing through his veins, thoughts drifting out of his head before they formed, kissing her back. For a third, fourth, fifth beat, as she pushed him back against the sofa, her hand going to the back of his neck. She was hard, hungry, almost aggressive, but somehow it didn’t feel as if she was doing it because she _wanted_ to kiss him, not really.

That thought had just floated into his mind, the first real thought he’d managed to have, when she broke away. Her eyes were wide, both of them catching breath, then her gaze went past him, and her face stilled.

James, after one look at the blank horror in her eyes, twisted around to look behind him, Saffy’s weight still against his chest.

As if in a daze, or some sort of nightmare, it took him a moment to realise who he was seeing and what it meant. Albus was standing there just inside the Portrait Hole, his eyes on them. He was looking at Saffy, but as James turned around, his gaze moved and his eyes met his brother’s.

‘Fuck,’ James breathed, the full impact of what he’d just done hitting him as he struggled to move away from Saffy.

Al turned and, before either Saffy or James could do or say a thing, climbed out of the Portrait Hole again and was gone. 

*

The Heathrow International Apparition Terminal was relatively quiet on a Sunday morning in the middle of November, and Harry was glad of it. There were the usual few double takes in the Arrivals Lounge, as people realised who he was, but he could tune those out. It was one of those things that had just become normal over the years, although he didn’t think it happened to quite the degree it had during the first decade or so after the war—but maybe he just noticed it less.

Ginny, who was watching the arrivals board, grabbed his arm.

‘Look, I think it’s them!’

The word ‘Anchorage’, in curling letters at the top of the list, had turned from black to glowing silver. They moved forwards together towards the gate, Ginny craning her neck to see inside the terminal, although all that was visible through the small window was the back of a Ministry Customs Officer’s head. From inside came the usual pop, then another one, then the muffled murmur of voices.

Then the door opened, and the Customs Officer’s voice became suddenly clearer:

‘Welcome to the UK, and welcome home, Mrs Scamander.’

‘Oh, it’s actually still Ms Lovegood, but thank you,’ said a familiar voice.

‘Luna!’

Ginny started forward, and a moment later, Luna had dropped both the suitcase she’d been levitating—which landed with a loud crash on the floor—and the hand of the small boy she’d been holding to envelop Ginny in a hug.

Harry smiled as he watched them, quite happy to wait his turn, and turned to greet the man who followed Luna out, with another boy, identical to the first.

‘Hi, Rolf. Good to see you. Apparition all go smoothly?’

Rolf Scamander, tall and grey-bearded, in a knee-length, somewhat battered green coat, shook Harry’s hand with a calloused grip.

‘Hey Harry, you too. Yes, couldn’t have been better. Thanks for coming to meet us,’ he said, his accent—mostly American, but with some faint tones of several other things underneath it—betraying his own childhood spent travelling the world.

‘And you two must be Lorcan and Lysander.’ Harry turned to the two little boys. ‘Though I’d never have recognised you, you’ve got so big. Which of you is which, then?’

Facially, the twins were indistinguishable, as far as Harry could tell, with identical mops of fair hair, angelic smiles and dimples. One of them, the one who had emerged with Luna, was wearing a pink, puffy coat, while the other had no coat at all, only a kind of cape with a hood shaped like some kind of horned creature, which he had pulled up over his head. The one with the cape smiled at him, and Harry noticed that he also had the almost-healed scab of a graze on his chin, and the knees of his jeans were somewhat grubby.

‘I’m Lorcan.’

‘Don’t be silly, darling.’ Luna broke away from Ginny’s arms at last and turned back towards them, smiling fondly at Harry. ‘That’s Lysander. _This_ is Lorcan. Harry, it’s so good to see you.’

Harry returned the tight hug she gave him. The great thing about Luna was that however long she was away—and it had been nearly two years this time—she walked right back into your life as if she’d never been away. She was just as remarkably dressed as her husband and sons in a purple faux-fur coat and huge earrings shaped like lime green pumpkins, and, being Luna, looked completely at home in them.

‘Boys, you remember Uncle Harry and Auntie Ginny, don’t you?’ she said, pulling back from Harry.

‘Yeah, I remember,’ the caped Lysander answered confidently, apparently unabashed by being called out on his lie. ‘Uncle Harry, you saved a dragon from a dungeon, didn’t you?’

‘Er—’ Harry glanced at Luna, amused. ‘Well, it wasn’t a dungeon, technically, it was an underground bank vault. But yes, that did happen. Although your Uncle Ron and Auntie Hermione helped too—you’ll probably see them later.’

Lorcan looked at them solemnly from deep inside his pink coat.

‘I actually don’t know if I exactly remember you, or if I just know who you are because Mama told us about you,’ he said earnestly.

‘Well, it was two years ago last time you saw us. You were quite little,’ Ginny said with a smile, then looked around. ‘Shall we make a move?’

They had only three suitcases—presumably with Extension Charms cast—and Harry drew his wand to help levitate one of them as they all headed towards the exit.

‘We thought,’ Ginny went on, ‘if you’re not all too exhausted by time differences and everything, it might be nice to invite Ron and Hermione over for dinner tonight. Neville’s on duty at school this weekend, unfortunately, but everyone’s dying to see you. Then tomorrow, as you know, is Lily’s birthday, so we thought we could go up to Hogsmeade and show you your new house, then pick Lily up for her birthday meal. She knows we’re taking her out of school for the evening,’ she added with a smile. ‘But she has no idea that her godmother’s going to be there, so that’s a nice surprise for her.’

Luna laughed, then shook her head as they emerged into the drizzly day.

‘Fifteen—I can’t believe it. Last time I saw her, she can only have been thirteen. I can’t wait to see her, and your boys too.’

‘You, er, haven’t got Lily anything _alive_ for her birthday this year, have you?’ Harry enquired.

Last time Luna and Rolf had been in the country for Lily’s birthday, her thirteenth, their gift had been a rescued Niffler, which had caused so much chaos that it had had to be reluctantly handed over to be looked after by Hagrid at the sanctuary he’d started in his retirement, up in the Orkneys with Olympe Maxime.

Luna laughed. ‘No, this one shouldn’t be too troublesome. Anyway, if the boys can maybe have a bit of a nap at yours before dinner, that plan sounds perfect, doesn’t it, Rolf?’

‘Absolutely,’ Rolf agreed. ‘We’re looking forward to seeing this house. Luna tells me Hogsmeade’s right up in the highlands, so that’ll suit me. Give me a good mountain or two, and I’m happy.’

‘How did you find it, Harry?’ Luna asked. ‘Ginny implied that there was a story to that when she sent us the pictures.’

‘Total chance really,’ Harry said, steering everyone towards where they’d parked the car—something they’d invested in as the only feasible way to get three teenagers and all their luggage to King’s Cross three times a year. ‘I was using house-hunting as a pretext for being up in Hogsmeade, investigating a case, and there was only one even advertised there.’

‘Then he got there, and it was perfect,’ Ginny put in. ‘Right on the edge of the village, well back from the main street, so you shouldn’t be bothered by all the kids pouring past on Hogsmeade days. Four bedrooms, so the boys can have one each if you want, and still leave one for a spare,’ she finished, smiling at Lorcan and Lysander.

‘The garden’s a bit wild, but there’s plenty of space,’ Harry said, as they arrived at the car and he opened the boot for the suitcases.

‘Hey, this is exciting.’ Luna beamed at her children, then at Harry and Ginny. ‘They’ve never been in a car before.’

‘Well, Harry’s driving is certainly exciting,’ Ginny said with a grin. ‘You’d think, given how good he is on a broom, that his steering would be a bit better, but—’

‘I’m better than Ron,’ Harry retorted. ‘That’s the main thing. And I've never crashed yet, so you should be safe.’

They piled in, the car more spacious on the inside than the outside. Luna, with a wave of her wand, buckled Lorcan and Lysander into the child seats that Harry had prepared at the back.

‘So what was your case in Hogsmeade?’ she asked. ‘If we’re allowed to ask, of course.’

‘Yeah, you haven’t sent us to live in a den of dark wizards, have you?’ Rolf joked.

Harry laughed, leaning over his shoulder to see where he was going as he backed slowly out of the parking space. The trouble with cars was that they didn’t just do what you wanted them to without any effort, the way brooms did. And he didn’t use it often enough to get practise.

‘No, I think I can say fairly safely that whoever broke into Honeydukes, it wasn’t a local. And we’ve had no further incidents up there, so mainly all we’re doing is surveillance now, to be sure that whoever it was doesn’t have another go.’

‘Another go at what, though?’ Luna asked, a small furrow in her brow. ‘Breaking into Honeydukes?’

Harry glanced in his rear-view mirror. Lysander had produced what looked like two green mice from a pocket and was playing with them, engrossed in his game, but Lorcan was paying close attention to the adult conversation.

‘I’ll catch you up on the details later,’ he suggested. ‘The ones that are public knowledge anyway. We’ve had an eventful time since September, one way or another, but I'll tell you later on. Small ears, and everything. I tell you what, though, having you lot living up there gives me an excuse to pop up without attracting too much attention, so you can expect to see me a bit, just to warn you.’

‘And on that subject,’ Ginny broke in. ‘How do you feel about hosting a get-together of some of the old crowd just before Christmas? We haven’t all been together for so long, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity.’

‘Oh, I love that idea!’ said Luna, her eyes shining. ‘And we’d be happy to host—wouldn’t we, Rolf?’

‘Could combine it with a little house-warming,’ Rolf said. ‘You know, we’ve never been based enough in one place to have one of those before, and I’ve always sort of liked the idea.’

‘Perfect,’ Luna declared. ‘And if we have it after the end of term, that gives us enough time to get unpacked and the place properly decorated, and all your wonderful children can be there too.’

‘Wonderful children?’ Ginny pulled a face. ‘I can tell you haven’t met them for a couple of years.’

‘No, no,’ Luna protested. ‘You can't fool me like that. As if your and Harry’s children could be anything other than delightful. You need to catch me up on their lives, and everything about them.’

‘We could, if we knew anything about their lives whatsoever,’ Harry said over his shoulder. ‘Lily still tells us things, at least, but you have to decode the nonsense to know what she’s on about. The boys only write to us to request more money, because they’ve mysteriously spent everything we gave them at the start of term and may actually starve if they can’t buy more Fizzing Whizbees on Hogsmeade weekends. I’m telling you, don’t let your two turn into teenagers.’

‘I know you’re exaggerating,’ Luna told him, as Rolf and Ginny laughed. ‘So I shall just ask them myself.’

‘Well, do let us know what you find out,’ Harry told her. ‘Although I have a few questions for them myself when I see them all at Christmas. ‘

‘Oh?’ Luna met his eyes in the mirror, her eyebrows raised.

‘Yes.’ Harry grimaced. ‘I have a map thief to track down.’


	12. Explosions and Explorations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James deals with the consequences of his actions, and Issie and her friends go exploring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: technically there are mentions of underage sex in this one too (though the exact ages aren't mentioned, but by implication), which definitely did happen this time - but absolutely nothing graphic at all. i'm not going to warn for this issue on future chapters; just know it could pop up, but will never be graphic.

James was a Chaser, but there were some problems that could only be handled with a Beater’s bat and a Bludger.

He swung the bat cleanly, hearing the crack of wood on leather. The impact went all the way up to his shoulder as he balanced his weight to stay on his moving broom. The other Bludger came flying at him before he could watch where the first one had ended up. He swung and hit. Again at the first one, whistling back towards his head. Again at the second, twisting as it came from behind him.

Bludgers didn’t give you time to think; you just had to lose yourself to the rhythm of it, put yourself in tune with them so that you sensed where they were coming from and could react almost before they were there.

‘ _You want to talk about it?_ ’ Louis had asked in the dorm that morning.

‘ _Talk about what?_ ’ James had replied woodenly.

Louis wouldn’t have been fooled, but he hadn’t pushed it either, and James had slipped out through the common room without speaking to anyone else. Breakfast hadn’t seemed very appealing, even after the hangover potion he'd taken, so he’d headed for the one place where things always made sense.

The Bludgers came whistling back at him from two different directions, and he thumped them away, one after the other, a forehand swing followed by a backhand.

His hangover was fading, as the potion did its work and the chill wind blew into his face and nipped his fingers, but the churning in his stomach didn’t really come from too much alcohol. Angrily, James pushed the pictures out of his head, but they shoved their way back in, over and over. 

Saffy, drunk, messy, leaning in to kiss him—and there was no answer, no possible answer, that could satisfactorily answer the question of why he hadn’t stopped her. And then, even worse, like a punch between his ribs, the vision of Al’s face, blank, shocked, empty, before he turned away.

He was aware of the first Bludger a fraction too late. Wildly, too hurried, he swung out and got some purchase on it, although not enough to send it far.

Before he could recover, the other one hit him square in the back of the shoulder. The impact almost knocked him off his broom, and he struggled for balance. His rhythm was gone. The other Bludger nearly caught him in the head, forcing him to flatten himself along his broom. Furiously, James snatched his wand out and flung out a spell to quell the balls. They hung in the air, vibrating slightly.

Fuck. He hadn’t been using training Bludgers, and enough pain was throbbing through his shoulder that he wondered for a moment whether it was dislocated. After the first moment, though, he could move it carefully, and he’d had enough Quidditch injuries—not to mention other injuries—to be fairly sure he hadn’t done anything too serious this time. It still hurt, and healing spells weren’t his area of expertise. That was Al’s thing, and at any other time he might have thought of going to see if his brother was in the common room and could do anything to stop it swelling up.

The memory of why he couldn’t do that, driven out of his mind momentarily by the pain, lodged itself back in, with the accompanying dull stab into his solar plexus.

Fuck.

‘You alright?’ a voice called.

James swung around on his broom, wincing as the movement hurt his shoulder, and saw Louis in the nearest stand, watching him. He flew over, carefully keeping his injured arm by his side.

‘You okay? Louis repeated. ‘That looked like it hurt.’

‘It’s fine. What are you doing here?’

James had no doubts about Louis. They’d grown up side-by-side, best friends as well as cousins, and Louis would always be there, no matter what happened. But just occasionally, these days, he could turn annoyingly Fenella-like and sensible. And Al was Louis’s cousin too.

‘Fenella made me come and find you,’ Louis said. ‘She was worried you might fly into the lake or something.’

James rolled his eyes, then wished he hadn’t, as the remains of his hangover-headache throbbed.

‘She would,’ he said.

He landed beside Louis, propped his broom against a bench, and sank onto it with a sigh. His head hurt and his shoulder hurt, and he had no single clue what to do about the situation he’d got himself into. 

Louis sat down beside him, but James didn’t look at him, gazing out instead across the Quidditch pitch to the hills beyond it.

‘You know, however much you pretend like nothing happened last night, or that you don’t care or whatever, it isn’t gonna make it true,’ Louis said.

James gave him a sideways glance.

‘Did Fenella tell you to say that too? Because you’re sounding like her.’

‘No.’ A tinge of annoyance crept into Louis’s voice. ‘Don’t take this out on us. We’re trying to be there for you.’

 _Even though you monumentally fucked up_. Louis didn’t say it, but the words hung there, both of them aware of the truth.

‘They’d already broken up, you know,’ James said abruptly. ‘Before Saffy even came in. Al broke up with her.’

‘Right. Okay.’ Louis sounded relieved. ‘I mean, that’s what Emmy Brooke said, but—’

‘Are people talking about it then?’ James broke in.

‘Well, yeah. You were in full view in the common room. Nobody really knows what the hell’s going on, though. I haven’t even seen Al or Saffy this morning.’

There was another pause, while James wrestled with his thoughts. Normally he didn’t care if people talked about him, but the thought that everyone knew what he’d done—maybe even thought he’d done something even worse than he had—sent a heavy wave of shame over him. If only he could just take that moment back. Erase it. Wave his wand and send everything back to how it had been before. But that was impossible. It was done.

‘So this thing with you and Saffy,’ Louis said hesitantly at last.

James jerked his head around, tweaking his shoulder but hardly noticing it.

‘There is no _thing_ with me and Saffy,’ he insisted. ‘God. We were both pissed, that was all. And she was upset, I guess. Neither of us meant it.’

Did that make it worse or better? Did it even make a difference?

Louis scrunched his face up, looking a little confused.

‘But you did sleep with her last year too. That night after the Hallowe'en Feast.’

‘Yeah, well, I know, obviously. But that has nothing to do with last night.’ _Except that that was why Al broke up with Saffy_. But Louis might not know what, and James didn’t really want to tell him. ‘It was one time, and it didn’t mean anything either. I mean, fuck, I was with Polly for like three months after that. We were drunk then, too,’ he added, remembering back to that night the previous October, which, indeed, he only had vague memories of.

‘Okay, okay,’ Louis agreed. ‘I just—I mean, you don’t, y’know, _like_ her or anything, do you?’

‘Christ.’ James groaned. ‘No. Not like that. Like, I’ve known Saffy since I was a kid—you know that. We used to knock around on brooms together. She’s fun, and cool and everything, but I like her as a _friend_. Last year was—I don’t know, we got carried away. Yesterday was totally different, though. I didn’t even know she was going to kiss me—I don’t think she knew either; it just happened, and now we can’t take it back.’

‘Well, that’s true,’ Louis said neutrally. ‘But what are you gonna do about it?’

‘I have no idea,’ James admitted.

What he couldn’t do was stay out at the Quidditch pitch all day, though. He went back up to the castle with Louis, and came into the common room to a few glances and whispers. Across the room, he saw Lily sitting with Meri Hewitt and some other Fourth Years.

He had no idea what had happened to Lily after he’d been teasing her about her boyfriend, he realised. Did she know what had happened? He hoped not, but, from what Louis had said, it sounded like it would be hard for her not to. She wasn’t looking at him, though—she was huddled under a blanket, looking very sorry for herself.

Louis followed his gaze.

‘Yeah, first ever hangover happening over there, I think,’ he commented.

James allowed the faintest grin to cross his face, although he didn’t really feel like laughing.

‘Least she had fun,’ he said, looking around again and spotting Fenella and the twins across at the other side.

He headed towards them, but, before he could reach them, his way was blocked by a figure almost as tall as he was. He stopped. 

Fury crackled from every inch of Rose, from her wild red hair down to the heavy fake-leather black boots on her feet, and she folded her arms across her chest as she glared at him.

‘What,’ she said, enunciating clearly and with great emphasis. ‘The actual. _Fuck?_ ’

James met her gaze, feeling his own resentment flare into life in response to her aggression. Whatever happened, Rose had to have a bloody opinion on it.

‘Here’s a suggestion,’ he growled. ‘How about you mind your own business?’

‘It is my business when you fuck up my best friend and my cousin’s relationship,’ she retorted, not budging an inch.

‘Yeah, well.’ James planted his feet. ‘Maybe you should go and talk to your best friend and your precious favourite cousin, and get your story straight. Because they were doing a pretty good job of fucking up their own relationship without me. Or did they not tell you that bit?’

‘Seriously?’ Rose bit back at him, her voice rising as she spoke. ‘You’re gonna stand here and defend yourself? Fuck, James. You've done some shitty things in your life, but _this_ is just about the lowest you’ve ever gone. I mean, what is _wrong_ with you?’

‘Hey, hey, chill,’ Louis protested from behind James. ‘Come on, Rose. He already feels bad.’

‘Does he?’ Rose’s eyes flicked to Louis and then back to James. ‘Does he really? Well not bad enough. Do you have any clue at all? Al’s in fucking bits right now. What, you just thought it was fine to snog his girlfriend less than an _hour_ after they broke up. Which happened _because_ of you, so don’t lie about it not being your problem. And you can stop bloody sticking up for him,’ she added, shooting another dirty look at Louis. ‘Because you’re making yourself look like as much of a piece of shit as he is.’

Anger and guilt, and anger at the guilt, rose inside him. People nearby were staring. But if she was going to blame him for Al and Saffy breaking up, she could have another think. He’d done nothing wrong with Saffy the previous year—Al hadn’t even been on the scene then.

‘God, Rose. Why do you always have to shove your way into everything, like you’re some kind of fucking judge over the rest of us? Has it ever occurred to you just to keep your mouth shut and your nose out for once? I mean, what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I shouldn’t have done it? Because I’ll say those, but it doesn’t change anything, does it?’

She stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed, her mouth a thin line.

‘No,’ she said at last, in icy, quiet tones that were somehow more impressive than when she’d been shouting and swearing at him. ‘It doesn’t. But it’d be a start, if you went and said them to the right person.’

And with that, she turned on her heel and marched away from them.

*

When Issie and Sophie came down into the common room the morning after the party, it was virtually empty. Jake had been right—most of the older students seemed to be still in bed, even though it was later than usual. There were a few small signs of the party—a balloon floated near the ceiling, an empty bottle had been overlooked beside the fireplace, and traces of glitter sparkled here and there on the floor—but most of it had been cleaned and tidied away.

Lucy and the others had crept out of the Gryffindor dorms at about eleven thirty, after Artemis’s dormmates had come upstairs to report that Fenella had turned the music off and was chasing the younger students off to bed, while everyone who was still fit to hold a wand helped to put the room to rights.

‘D’you think it was true, what Tansy and Robyn were saying last night?’ Sophie asked, sounding troubled.

Issie glanced at her. Tansy Kent, one of the Second Years, had been full of some story about James Potter and his brother’s girlfriend, and Robyn Macmillan had sworn she’d actually seen them kissing. Lucy had dismissed the story, and Issie had kept quiet. She wouldn’t put anything past James Potter, personally, but they were Lucy’s cousins, and Sophie’s friends too.

‘I dunno.’ She shrugged. ‘You know them more than me.’

Sophie’s face scrunched.

‘I know. I _hope_ it’s not true. I mean, that’s awful, isn’t it? I don’t think James would do that though—or Saffy either.’

She didn’t sound completely sure of herself, but as they reached the Portrait Hole, rushing footsteps came behind them, and Jake caught them up.

‘Hey, wait for me!’ he said, unnecessarily since he was alongside them, and went on breathlessly, before they could speak. ‘Are you guys still up for later?’

‘Up for what later?’ Sophie asked.

Issie, who had forgotten the conversation she'd had with Jake until that moment, glanced sideways at Sophie. Sophie tended to be afraid of things like getting into trouble.

‘Jake was thinking we could maybe use the map to explore the secret passages again today.’

‘Oh.’ Sophie frowned. ‘Which secret passages?’

‘We thought maybe one of the Hogsmeade ones,’ Jake said. ‘Nobody’ll be down there today.’

Sophie, her hand on the frame of the Portrait Hole, paused and considered the idea, and the others waited expectantly.

‘Yes, alright then,’ she said at last. ‘Let’s do it.’

Issie hadn’t been expecting Sophie to agree that easily, and she exchanged a surprised look with Jake as they climbed out of the Portrait Hole. Sophie, just ahead of them, looking back and caught the glance. She turned a little pink.

‘Well, I think it’s stupid that we’re not allowed to go to Hogsmeade,’ she said. ‘I’ve been loads of times. It’s totally safe.’

‘Okay, well that's cool then,’ Jake said cheerfully. ‘D’you want to go back and get the map now, Issie?’

‘Tiggi and Sam are still in the dorm,’ Issie pointed out. ‘They were just getting up. Let’s come back after, while they’re in the Great Hall. We can get our cloaks and stuff then too.’

‘We could always ask Sam and Tiggi if they want to come,’ Sophie suggested.

It was Issie’s turn to hesitate. Antigone had been a lot more friendly the past few weeks—she’d even lent Issie her waistcoat for the party. But Issie wasn’t sure she was quite ready to share secrets with her. And then, the more people who knew, the more likely it was that other people would find out, including people that most definitely should not.

‘I don’t think we should,’ she said slowly. ‘We don’t want more people knowing we’ve got it, or anyone could find out.’

‘Lucy and the others know we’ve got it,’ Jake pointed out.

‘I don’t know if they do really,’ Sophie said. ‘Lucy probably thinks we put it back that first day, like we said we would. She'd have asked us about it if she knew. And I don’t think Pádraig and Artemis have remembered. They’ve never said anything. We will have to put it back eventually, you know,’ she added. ‘James is going to notice in the end.’

Issie supposed Sophie was right, although she didn’t entirely like the idea of parting with the map now. She liked the map and all its little labelled dots, and the way it let her go anywhere in the castle. And after all, James Potter had stolen it himself in the first place. What was he really going to do? He’d never guess who had it.

‘Let’s keep it a secret just for us, though,’ she said instead. ‘People’ll notice if five of us are sneaking around anyway.’

The others agreed, although Sophie cast Issie a thoughtful look that Issie ignored. They continued on to the Great Hall, where they found the Gryffindor table somewhat emptier than usual, especially at the end where the Sixth and Seventh Years tended to congregate. There was no sign of any of the Potters, although Fenella Belby was there with another girl, one of the ones she usually hung around with, looking tired and stressed, and talking to her friend in a low voice that clearly wasn’t meant to be heard by anyone else.

After breakfast, they went back up and fetched their things and the map from the now-deserted dormitory, then met up with Jake again in the common room. There were a few other people there by that point, so they made their way out into the corridor again, and huddled in one of the deep window alcoves, shielding the map from view with their bodies.

‘We’ll have to be careful,’ Issie said, opening it up. ‘If anyone sees us in Hogsmeade, they might report us to the teachers.’

‘Mr and Mrs Flume won’t say anything,’ Sophie said. ‘I know them. So we can go to Honeydukes, at least.’

‘Well, I’m going to Zonko’s,’ Jake insisted. ‘It’s Sunday—they can’t do anything!’

Issie was fairly sure that that wasn’t true, and, from Sophie’s expression, she thought the same thing. But who in Hogsmeade was really going to go to the trouble of Flooing the school to tell them there were three students running around? And if they did, how would they know what names to report?

‘You should wear your hat, and wrap your scarf around your face or something,’ she told Sophie. ‘You’re the one people are going to recognise.’

Jake would be completely anonymous in Hogsmeade, and Issie herself was generally able to go unnoticed, unlike Scorpius, whose surname people tended to know from one look at his face and his blonde, Malfoy hair.

Issie murmured the magic words and waited as the lines of the castle appeared on the parchment. She’d spent enough time studying it over the past few weeks that she was starting to be familiar with the layout, even of parts of the school she would have no other reason to know.

‘Here,’ she said, putting her finger straight on a statue of a one-eyed witch. ‘That’s the Honeydukes one. But it’s not the only one. There’s this one, in the East Wing, behind this other statue. And loads more, but those look like the easiest to find, because they’re behind statues.’

Jake peered at the map.

‘You know, we could use _this_ little passage to get to the East Wing,’ he said, pointing at one of the internal passages, with an entrance not far from where they were at that moment. ‘That way, nobody’d see us. Look, it comes out just around the corner from the—’ He looked a little closer. ‘—Gregory the Smarmy statue. Why don’t we go that way?’

They didn’t really need to do that, because nobody who saw them would have any reason to think they were doing anything other than going for a walk in the grounds or something, but they all liked the idea. The girls agreed readily, even though Jake’s suggested route was, if anything, less direct than the main corridors, and they made their way to the tapestry, behind which was hidden the first entrance.

‘We didn’t go in this one with Lucy and the others, did we?’ Sophie asked, pulling the tapestry aside.

‘I don’t think so.’ Issie studied the map again. ‘It says you have to tap in each corner of this panel. Like this?’

She rapped her knuckles on all four corners in turn, and as she knocked on the last one, the panel swung easily inwards.

‘I wonder how anyone found these passages to put them on the map,’ Jake said, as they crept inside.

Issie took the lead, tucking the map away again, since there was only one possible route, a narrow corridor leading to a spiral stair. It was dark in the passage, but they had mastered the _Lumos_ spell, and Sophie produced her wand and held it aloft just behind Issie, so that the light flowed out all around them, with Jake bringing up the rear.

‘There are probably spells you can use to find that sort of thing, if you know how,’ Issie suggested.

‘Maybe there are passages they didn’t even find.’ Jake’s voice, a little excited, echoed in the hollow space. ‘We might find more!’

‘If we knew the spells,’ Sophie reminded him.

‘Well, one day,’ Jake said from behind them. ‘When we’ve learnt a bit more.’

‘My dad told me that when he was at school, there was a scary caretaker called Mr Filch, who knew all these passages, so you couldn’t use them without getting caught,’ Sophie said, giggling a little.

‘My mum told me about him too,’ Issie said, without looking around, as it was taking all her concentration to creep down the narrow stairway, with its steep, uneven stone steps. ‘He had a cat.’

‘Yes, Mrs Norris,’ agreed Sophie. ‘Fred Weasley once told me Mrs Norris’s ghost still haunts the castle, but I don’t think that’s true. Can cats even be ghosts?’

‘A ghost cat can’t do much to us, anyway,’ said Jake.

At that moment, Issie, at the front, emerged at the bottom into a small room and stopped dead.

‘Whoa!’ she whispered in surprise and awe.

Behind her, Sophie stopped too, and Jake stumbled into her, so that there was confusion for a moment. When they had sorted themselves out and were all standing side by side in the space, Sophie held her wand up again, so that they could see what they were looking at.

The corridor widened out into a space about twice as wide again, with stone pillars holding up the ceiling. It was lined with shelves at one side, with a rough stone bench, about waist-height, at the other. A cauldron stood on the bench, and the shelves were lined with all kinds of things—bottle and jars, some empty and some full, some containing liquids and others things that looked like potions ingredients.

‘What is it?’ breathed Jake.

‘Someone’s making potions,’ Issie said

She moved across to look at the rows of jars, pulling out her wand to cast her own _Lumos_ spell. Some of them, especially lower down, were dust-covered, but others were clean. Most contained things she couldn’t identify—leaves and powders, some with things like dried beetles or roots, but not the kinds they used in Potions class.

‘I think someone’s been here recently,’ Sophie said from the other side of the room.

Issie looked around to see Sophie peering into the cauldron. She and Jake went to join her.

‘Feel it,’ Sophie told them, as they came either side of her. ‘Put your hand on the cauldron. It’s warm.’

Issie placed her hand on the rounded metal side of the cauldron. Sophie was right—and surely it wouldn’t be warm if it were just some old potion that had been left here years before. She held her wand so that it, like Sophie’s, shone inside. The liquid inside was thick, a grey-brown colour, and bubbling slightly. For a moment, they all stared at it.

‘We shouldn’t stay too close,’ Issie said at last, although none of them moved. ‘We don’t know what it is. Sometimes potion fumes do funny things.’

‘But why is it here?’ Jake said, sounding mystified. ‘Whose is it?’

‘Someone’s making secret potions,’ Sophie said. ‘It can’t be a teacher—they wouldn’t bother doing it all the way down here.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘We should go. They might come back.’

‘Yeah—and we need to get down to Hogsmeade and back before lunch,’ Issie reminded them.

With a last, lingering look around at the strange little room, they moved slowly on down the passage, passing another dark opening to their right, although their own route continued on straight down.

‘Where does that go?’ Jake asked, glancing into the other passage.

‘Comes out all the way over in the West Wing, near Ravenclaw Tower,’ Issie said, looking at the map. ‘We don’t want to go that way.’

Their passage opened out into a side corridor, just around the corner from the statue of Gregory the Smarmy and opposite a door with a sign that said ‘Ancient Runes’.

As they emerged, voices were heard coming along the main corridor towards theirs. They looked at each other. Being caught in this out-of-the-way part of the castle, in outdoor clothes, would require explanations. It wasn’t exactly on the way to the Entrance Hall.

‘They’re coming this way,’ Sophie whispered.

‘Come on!’ Issie hissed, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door to the Ancient Runes classroom.

They all three hustled in through the door and Issie pushed it shut behind them, then they peeped out of the small window.

‘They’ll probably just go straight past in the main corridor, not come down here at all,’ Jake said breathlessly.

‘Ssh,’ Issie said, trying to listen for footsteps and work out where they were going. ‘They’re not going past. They’re coming.’

He fell silent, and he and Sophie must have been able to hear the sound of feet turning into their small corridor just as well as Issie could. But where were they going? It was a dead-end at the other end. They ducked below the level of the window as the steps came closer.

‘Maybe it’s Professor Morrison,’ Jake whispered, with a barely-stifled, half-frightened giggle. ‘Maybe he’s coming in here.’

‘ _Sssshh,_ ’ Sophie told him.

Issie sank down to the floor with her back against the door and unfolded the map again. Professor Morrison, the headmaster, didn’t seem a very likely option, even though he did take some NEWT classes in Ancient Runes. Before she could find their exact location on the map, there were voices right outside the door.

‘Well, when, then?’ said a male voice that Issie recognised, although it certainly wasn’t Professor Morrison.

‘Two days,’ a girl’s voice answered. ‘No sooner. I told you how long it’d take. I don’t just make wild guesses at that sort of thing. Come back after lessons on Tuesday.’

‘Come back where?’ The male voice didn’t sound very happy.

‘Here’s fine.’

There was a pause, then he said doubtfully, ‘Outside the Ancient Runes classroom? Why?’

‘I don’t ask you questions, so don’t ask me either. Just show up with the money. And for now, piss off.’

Issie felt, more than heard, Jake’s stifled laughter. Sophie elbowed him in the ribs, but Issie was staring at the map, trying to work things out. She’d found them—there they were, the three of them, all together just inside the door of the classroom, and there, outside, were two dots with names attached. But it didn’t make sense. She _knew_ that voice. Only it didn’t match the name.

‘Okay, fine. But it’d better be ready.’

There was the sound of footsteps—only one set this time—retreating back the way they’d come. Then a short silence before the muffled sound of four knocks, one after the other, and a door clicking open. Someone was going into the passage they’d just come out of, opening the door just the way they had at the other end.

Issie’s curiosity overcame her, and she turned around and edged her eyes above the rim of the window. All she saw was the back of a tall girl, with a mass of dark hair gathered on the top of her head, climbing into the panel before it slid shut behind her. Issie looked up and down the corridor, then down at Sophie and Jake.

‘They’ve gone,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

She was still frowning at the map, however, as they left the classroom.

‘Who were they?’ Jake asked. ‘D’you think that’s who was making the potion?’

‘It must have been,’ Sophie said. ‘I didn’t know their voices though. Who was it, Issie?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Issie said slowly. ‘It was the girl who went into the passage. Gorm-something. I don’t know her, but she looked like a Sixth or Seventh Year. And I _thought_ the other one was Searle Nott—you know, the guy we saw that first time, when we were with the others? He was up to something then as well. But the map says it wasn’t him—it says it was Mylos Travers.’

‘Oh,’ Sophie said, looking puzzled. ‘Well, I don’t think the map’d be wrong. Did you _see_ him?’

‘No,’ Issie admitted. ‘But I could _swear_ it was him.’

‘Well, they probably don’t sound that different,’ Sophie pointed out reasonably. ‘What d’you think they were doing, though?’

‘I think that girl made the potion,’ Jake said. ‘And the guy was trying to buy it, only it wasn’t ready. You heard her tell him to come back in two days and bring the money. I bet that’s it.’

‘They aren’t meant to sell potions.’ Sophie sounded shocked. ‘You can only sell them if you have a potioneer’s license. And they don’t give those to people still at school.’

‘Yeah, well, that’s why she’s doing it in a secret passage,’ Jake said impatiently. ‘I wonder what the potion is.’

Issie looked at the dot labelled ‘Mylos Travers’, now moving away from them down a flight of stairs.

‘But who _is_ Mylos Travers?’ she said, deeply puzzled.

‘Probably some Sixth or Seventh Year too,’ Sophie said. ‘What did you say the girl was called?’

‘But I don’t—’ Issie looked up at them, frowning. ‘I don’t know anyone called Mylos Travers. There _were_ Traverses, years ago. My mum and dad knew them. And my grandparents. But I didn’t think there were even any left. I’ve never heard of Mylos Travers. Or any Travers—not any who’s alive now, anyway.’

‘Well, never mind them,’ Jake said, obviously losing interest. ‘Just some of the older ones breaking rules too. Come on—I want to go to Zonko’s.’

The trip to Hogsmeade was fun enough that even Issie almost forgot about the mysterious encounter.

The passage emerged from a small door at the back of the Three Broomsticks, right in the corner between a small lean-to shed and the back wall of the pub. Once it closed behind them, it looked exactly like a shadow on the wall, impossible to tell there was a door there, even when you looked closely.

They didn’t go inside the pub, because, as Sophie pointed out, they had no way of knowing who might be in there, but they tucked Sophie into a scarf and pulled her hat down almost over her eyes, and daringly walked the length of the main street. Both Issie and Jake were in Hogsmeade for the first time, and there was plenty to look at.

In Honeydukes, the fat woman behind the counter looked doubtfully at them.

‘I don’t think you should be here, should you, pets?’ she said gently, eyeing Sophie, behind her hat and scarf. ‘Sophie Longbottom, is that you?’

Sophie sighed and pulled her scarf down, pink with heat underneath.

‘I know, but it _is_ Sunday, Mrs Flume.’ She gave the woman her best pleading look, blue eyes wide. ‘There’s nowhere we _are_ meant to be. And we’re not doing anything bad.’

‘Well, aye, but—’ Mrs Flume glanced nervously over her shoulder, although there was nobody to hear her, and lowered her voice. ‘You need to be careful. You heard about our break-in the other week?’

‘But it’s the middle of the day!’ Jake protested. ‘There aren’t going to be any thieves here now.’

‘You won’t tell my dad, will you?’ Sophie begged.

‘I ought to.’ Mrs Flume sighed. ‘But you’re no exactly the first students to be here on the wrong weekend. And I suppose you know your way about, Sophie. I’ll say nothing, so long as you make sure you’re back up at school in plenty of time, you hear me? If questions get asked, I’ll be telling them the truth.’

They hurriedly assured her that they’d be back at school by lunchtime, and then spent a happy twenty minutes loading themselves up with treats from the Honeydukes shelves, before paying and then making their way outside, pockets bulging.

Zonko’s was, according to Sophie, nothing like as good as Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, but there was still a lot of fun stuff there, and Jake had been right about the sale. Issie bought some fake ink that looked identical to real ink but wouldn’t stick to paper or parchment, and a nose-biting mug to give to Scorpius for Christmas, while Jake acquired an entire box of dungbombs, among other things.

The man at the counter didn’t appear to recognise Sophie, and sold them their items without a murmur—Issie wasn’t sure whether he hadn’t realised that they must be Hogwarts students, or if he just didn’t care. Maybe he was just happy to be selling things.

After Zonko’s, they climbed a little way up the hillside outside the village, where they could look down a wide valley with mountains on either side. Hogwarts lay at the head of the valley, with the lake spread out below it, dark and mysterious, and a river that snaked out of the lake and rushed away between the hills, brownish water running over the stones.

‘What’s that?’ Jake asked, standing on top of a large boulder and pointing at a small cluster of houses, far away down the valley.

‘Just a Muggle village,’ Sophie answered. ‘I’ve never been there. They can’t see Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, so they stay down there.’

Jake turned to look at the great stone castle that dominated the view.

‘So what would they see if they looked that way?’

‘Only ruins, I think,’ Sophie said. ‘There are Muggle-repelling spells on it all, though, so nobody ever comes up to explore. My dad told me about it one time.’

‘Weird,’ Jake said, jumping off the rock. ‘Should we go further up?’

But Sophie looked at her watch and said that they didn’t have time, and Jake and Issie let themselves be convinced. It would be stupid to end up getting into trouble after all this, just because they stayed too long.

Issie didn’t think about the strange conversation they’d overheard until they were in the passage again, heading back up to the castle, their purchases hidden inside their cloaks. With the whole happy morning in Hogsmeade between then and now, though, it didn’t seem like so much of a mystery.

Obviously, she had just made a mistake. She had immediately thought of Searle Nott because they’d seen him the last time, that was all. And her parents only went to pureblood parties maybe once or twice a year, and didn’t even always take Issie with them, so there were lots of people with pureblood names whom she didn’t know. Mylos Travers must be one of them.

Jake was likely right, too, about what had been going on, which was intriguing enough, but not really that weird. There were probably plenty of older students who would want to buy illicit potions.

The others were obviously thinking about it too, because, as they stepped out from behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, Jake glanced towards that little side corridor.

‘I wonder if she’s still up there,’ he said.

‘We can find out,’ Issie suggested, starting to pull out the map.

‘Even if she’s not,’ Sophie broke in. ‘Let’s go by the normal corridors. It’s quicker anyway, and we don’t have much time before lunch.’

Issie would have liked to go and investigate a bit further, but Sophie had a point, and she also looked a bit nervous about going back up via that secret stair. As Issie hesitated, a group of older students—Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, she thought—came around the corner, and she stuffed the map hastily back into her cloak.

Trying to look natural, they moved, not towards the side corridor, but towards the main stair, the normal way to go. There was no point in attracting attention when there were other people around.

Any more exploration would just have to wait.


	13. A World Away

‘Alright, folks.’ Mr Japra turned to his Year Twelve Geography class and perched on his desk. ‘One thing before we get started. Field trip. March. Suggestions?’

‘Ibiza!’ called a boy a few seats away from Hazel.

‘Thank you, Dylan. Good energy, but no, try again. Let me define some criteria first. Somewhere in the UK, and somewhere we can study post-glacial landscapes. And somewhere that isn’t Snowdonia, please, because I’ve taken a class there for the past three years in a row, and I would very much like a change. Anyone?’

‘The Lake District, sir?’ a voice at the front suggested.

Several other people made noises of disgust.

‘The Lake District’s like half an hour’s drive away!’ somebody protested. ‘That’s not a _trip_!’

Hazel raised her hand.

‘Yes.’ Mr Japra pointed at her with his fountain pen. ‘Hazel. Give me something.’

‘What about the Cairngorms, sir? They’re a glacial landscape, right?’ she said, forcing her voice to be light, as if it didn’t really matter.

‘They are indeed. Okay, good suggestion.’ Mr Japra smiled encouragingly at her. ‘That’s definitely a possibility.’

‘Where’s the Caingorms?’ someone asked.

Mr Japra groaned.

‘Seriously? I’m teaching an A-Level Geography class, and you’re asking me where the Cairngorms are? Can anyone help out here?’

‘Scotland, sir,’ said the boy sitting between Hazel and Dylan.

‘Correct, Saieed, thank you. The Scottish Highlands. So, any objections to us moving forward with a trip to Scotland in the spring? I’m fairly sure my bosses will agree to that.’

Hazel crossed her fingers under the desk. She’d had the idea the previous week, when Mr Japra had first reminded them of the annual Year Twelve field trip, and she’d hoped she might get an opportunity to bring it up. Mr Japra had dropped it in her lap. 

Nobody murmured a complaint. The north of Scotland was far enough away and different enough for most people that it was a decent option, if they had to stay in the UK.

‘Should I research some places we could stay, sir?’ she asked quickly, before Mr Japra could move on. ‘I’d like to,’ she added, as he looked surprised.

‘Oh. Well, fair enough. Yes, get me a few options and I’ll take a look at them on—when’s your next lesson? Wednesday? We’re looking for backpacking hostels, bunkhouses, that sort of thing, with dorm rooms and enough space for everyone. No fancy hotels, and no remote mountain huts. Alright with that?’

Hazel nodded, and he looked around at the rest of the class.

‘And the rest of you can spend the time looking up the Cairngorm National Park. By Wednesday, I expect all of you to be able to point it out on a map and tell me why it’s a good place for a case study on post-glacial landscapes. Now, let’s continue where we left off last week.’

At the end of the lesson, as they were coming out of the classroom, Hazel’s friend, Anna, fell into step beside her.

‘Why were you so into the Cairngorms suddenly?’ she asked.

‘I’m not.’ Hazel shrugged. ‘I just thought a trip there’d be nice.’

Anna shot her a narrow-eyed glance, and Hazel hesitated. After all, if her idea actually came to anything, Anna was probably going to find out.

‘Well, you know,’ she said casually. ‘Scorpius’s school’s up there.

‘Oh.’ Realisation then confusion chased through Anna’s expression. ‘But we’re going right before the Easter holidays. You’ll see him then anyway—why d’you need to go up there?’

Hazel hesitated again for just a moment. Anna knew Scorpius. She’d met him plenty of times over the years, but she didn’t—and couldn’t—know why his school fascinated Hazel. Why she’d been dying to see it ever since Scorpius had first told her of its existence, aged about eight.

‘I don’t _need_ to. I just thought it’d be fun. Plus, I’ve been to the highlands with my mum and dad, but I’ve never been to the Cairngorms, and they seem cool.’

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Hazel liked exploring and investigating new places—it was one of the reasons she was taking A-Level Geography. Anna gave her a quizzical look, but seemed to accept it.

‘Are you even going to be able to see him?’ she asked. ‘Won’t he be in school? Do they let them out of boarding schools during the term?’

‘I don’t know,’ Hazel admitted. She hadn’t talked to Scorpius about this plan at all because she had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t like her trying to track him down. ‘I think they’re sometimes allowed to go out at the weekends. If I find a place close by, hopefully he can.’

‘You know where his school is, then?’

‘Not exactly. But I can figure it out roughly.’

It was an optimistic prediction, but Hazel felt sure she could get an idea. It was detective work, that was all. And she had some clues to work on already.

‘Or you could just ask him,’ Anna pointed out. ‘He has a phone.’

‘Yeah,’ Hazel agreed neutrally. ‘He has a phone.’

She hadn’t heard from Scorpius lately. He had a lot going on, with his mum being ill and his baby brother in hospital, but she’d wondered, from the caginess of his last texts, whether there was something else happening for him. Something she didn’t know. At least she would see him in a few weeks and talk to him face-to-face.

‘Hey, you guys going into town for lunch?’ Saieed asked from behind them, interrupting her thoughts.

‘Yeah, we’re meeting Gillian and Lei outside the common room,’ Anna said, looking over her shoulder.

‘Well, we’re going to wait for Matt coming out of French,’ Dylan told them. ‘See you at Greggs?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Hazel agreed.

They left the humanities block and stepped into the chill drizzle of an early December day and a noisy stream of younger students, all heading towards the dining hall. Anna and Hazel turned against the tide, going the other way. One of the perks of being sixth formers was being allowed to leave school and walk into town for lunch.

Hazel glanced at Anna as they shouldered their way through the crowd.

‘Sure you don’t want to go with the boys and wait for Matt?’ she asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Anna refused to look at her, turning slightly pink.

‘I’m fine. We’ll see them in a few minutes.’

Hazel said no more. A large part of her hoped that Anna and Matt would do what they’d both clearly been wanting to do since the summer and get together. But another, much smaller part couldn’t help feeling a bit weird about the way things were changing. Anna had been out with people before, and so had Hazel, but not within their own group of friends. That somehow felt like something more serious—something that mustn’t be screwed up. Anyway, Hazel couldn’t imagine feeling like that about Matt or Saieed or Dylan, any more than she could about Scorpius.

Still, after Scorpius, Anna was her best friend, and Matt was one of the nicest people she knew, so they deserved it really, if it would make them both happy. It was just a change, and Hazel would just have to get used to it. 

They came around the corner of the humanities block, out of the main stream of people. There were only a few other students there, including a small group of younger girls huddled together.

Anna looked at the girls and slowed, and Hazel checked her step in response. One of the group was Anna’s little sister Charlotte. Charlotte was sitting on the low wall of a raised shrubbery, with her arm around a little blonde girl, who seemed to be choking back tears.

And, as she looked, Hazel recognised the other girl, and a finger of unease crept over her shoulder. Fiona Murphy. Charlotte’s best friend, and the girl at the centre of that whole weird incident that had happened in September. Hazel still had no memory of the video she’d apparently told Scorpius about, and the thing rested all the time at the bottom of her mind, an uncomfortable awareness of a gap in her memory. It was horrible to think that someone else—someone she didn’t even remember meeting—might have been in her mind, messing around with her memories.

If she and Scorpius were right, they had also been messing with Anna’s, and with Charlotte’s and Fiona’s, and probably with the other three Year Nines gathered around Fiona, and none of them had any idea of it.

‘Hey, you guys okay?’ Anna asked, directing her question at her sister.

They all looked around at Anna and Hazel, seeming a little startled, then the other three looked back at Fiona and Charlotte.

‘Yeah, we’re okay,’ Charlotte said, unconvincingly, since a tear had just escaped and trickled down Fiona’s face. ‘It’s just—’ She paused, looking at Fiona.

‘It’s some stupid lad in Year Eight spreading stories about Fiona,’ one of the others broke in furiously. ‘For like no reason—she’s never even spoke to him!’

‘What sort of story?’ Hazel asked.

Maybe it was none of their business. But that feeling that had started when Scorpius had rung her up and told her about a conversation she couldn’t remember was stealing back. A feeling as if the ground she stood on was slightly shaky, like strange things were happening that she couldn’t understand or control or even help.

Again, the other girls, whose names Hazel didn’t know, looked at Fiona and Charlotte. Again, Charlotte hesitated.

Fiona swallowed hard and rubbed the backs of her hands under her eyes.

‘It—it’s just stupid,’ she said, sounding slightly wobbly. ‘I don’t even know Jason Dean. I don’t know why he’d say that stuff.’

‘Okay, so you know that time Fiona fainted, way back at the end of the summer holidays?’ Charlotte said. ‘Jason Dean’s going round saying she never fainted at all—he says she went all weird in the street, and that they took her to the mental hospital, not the infirmary. We’ve all told people what really happened, but they’re still saying it.’

‘Like it would be some sort of big joke if she _had_ ,’ said one of the others. ‘People are so gross. And anyway, she never. She just fainted. We all saw it!’

The unsteadiness of the ground beneath Hazel’s feet was starting to feel like sinking sand. The whole story about a mental hospital was just some Year Eight kid being offensive, but the rest of it, Fiona being ‘weird’ in the street—well, that was what Scorpius had said, wasn’t it? That _was_ the real story of what had happened, only none of them remembered it. Except Jason Dean, whoever he even was. Hazel didn't know any of the Year Eights.

She looked at Fiona, who was slowly losing her battle with tears, and at Charlotte, her arm still tightly wrapped around Fiona. They were just normal girls. Nothing special or strange about them. Why had Fiona been targeted, if that was what had happened? Why was this happening to them? 

‘What a little prick,’ Anna said decisively. ‘Fiona, you should tell someone. Who’s Head of Year Eight? Mrs Stone? She’d soon squash him.’

They had Mrs Stone for English, and Anna was right—Hazel couldn’t imagine her letting horrible mental health jokes run around the school. But Mrs Stone couldn’t squash actual knowledge from Jason’s head, could she? Only people from Scorpius’s world could do that.

‘That’s what I said,’ said one of Fiona’s friends earnestly. ‘Like, that’s not right, people saying that.’

‘Yeah,’ Anna agreed. ‘And Mrs Stone’ll listen. You should get it stopped, though, because even if it was true—which I know it’s not, obviously—that’s not something to go round laughing about.’

‘Come on, Fi,’ said Charlotte gently, starting to get up and encouraging her friend to her feet at the same time. ‘They’re right. Let’s go and find someone now. The teachers'll be in the staffroom for lunch.’

And they were right. Hazel knew they were right. It wasn’t fair to have people talking like that about Fiona. But as the younger girls moved as a group towards the main school block, where the staffroom was, as well as the dining hall, Hazel cast a long look after them.

Should she be doing something herself? Jason Dean needed to be stopped, but she was the only person who knew that he might not be just making shit up. But last time the magical authorities—a shadowy, mysterious group in Hazel’s head—had got involved, she’d ended up missing her memories. What if it happened again? What if they found out that she knew more than they had realised?

And did even Jason Dean deserve to have his mind tampered with like that?

It bothered her all the way through lunch and for the rest of the afternoon. By the time the final bell went, she had more or less decided to say nothing at all to Scorpius, or to anyone else. Let them treat it like a nasty rumour. Jason would get into trouble, but he kind of deserved that if he’d thought it was a big joke. Nobody needed to be any wiser.

What really worried her, though, was what exactly had happened to Fiona in the first place. When Hazel had had that phone call from Scorpius, it hadn’t seemed quite real. She’d believed him, of course, but it was hard to be fully convinced, deep down, that something like that could really have happened and not a single person remembered it.

But someone did remember it, apparently, and that brought it into the real world with a sharp shock. It had really happened, and Hazel would have liked to know why, and what was being done about it. Fiona deserved to have her attacker caught.

At home, she told her parents she had homework and slipped upstairs. There she pulled a large, leather-bound book out from where it was hidden behind some other books on her shelf. Hazel sat down on her bed with it and and looked at the closed book for a moment.

Scorpius’s world of magic had always seemed a fantastical, faraway thing. Like Narnia, accessible through a wardrobe or something. She’d always wished she could open that wardrobe, find her way through, and see all the things he’d told her about. Prove to herself that it was real, once and for all.

Now that it was actually colliding with her own world, though, she didn’t know what to make of it. It was a little scary that there were secret people with secret powers going around alongside her, especially if they did things like attack innocent thirteen-year-olds in her own town. 

Hazel opened the hard cover of the book and lifted the photograph that she kept in the flyleaf. Scorpius had given it to her a couple of years ago. Looking at it was a strange experience, though, like one of those optical illusion pictures that seemed like a jumble of coloured pixels until you focused just right, and the picture jumped out. Once you’d seen it, it was perfectly clear, but easy to lose it again if you looked away or lost concentration.

The picture of Hogwarts was clearly a picture, not a pixelated mass of colours, but it required the same sort of focus to see what was really in it. If she just looked normally and casually at it, it was a picture of a valley with a lake—or loch, she supposed, if it was in Scotland, although Scorpius had always called it a lake. Dark forest lined one shore of the water, and there were some ruined walls in the distance. But if she remembered what she ought to be able to see, and looked in that very particular way at it, something else sprang out for a moment. The shadows on the hillside became towers, the ruined walls weren’t ruined after all, and a vast castle made itself visible at the head of the lake, like something camouflaged against the background.

Hazel blinked, letting it slide back to a picture of a simple landscape, and laid the photograph down on her bed. It was the book she really wanted.

Scorpius had given her that too, as a birthday present a couple of years ago, after she kept asking question he said he didn’t even know the answers to. He’d acted like it was almost a joke present, a dense, dry history book, which he said he’d never even read in its entirety himself.

But, to Hazel, it had read more like a fantasy story than history. Witches and wizards, goblins and centaurs, spells and potions, forbidden forests and impenetrable lakes, moving staircases and trick stairs and hidden rooms, people with extraordinary names doing extraordinary things. It was hard to find anything dull in _Hogwarts: A History_.

She flipped it open where she had a marker. It mentioned a Muggle town on that page, which Hazel had googled and found on the northern edge of the Cairngorm National Park. She had gone on googling, searching images for the names of the higher mountains of the area until she found one that she thought was the same shape as the mountain in the distant background of the photograph of Hogwarts.

It had been impossible to pin down exactly because the mountain was too distant, she couldn’t tell precisely which angle the photo had been taken from, and there were too many lochs with forests around them in that part of the country. But she’d gone through the history book again, putting a sticky note on every page she thought might hold a clue to the castle’s location.

Hazel hadn’t exactly been lying to her parents. She did have homework—specifically to find a place for their field trip in the Cairngorm Mountains. But should she be doing this? On the one hand, seeing Hogwarts had always been a dream of hers. Even if she couldn’t see it at all—and she hoped she might see _something_ , like in the photo—just being there and knowing it was there too would be special.

On the other hand, Scorpius shouldn’t have told her the things he had, she knew that. He might not want her doing detective work. But at the same time, the magical world was encroaching on hers. If it could do that—if people could actually come along and perform magic on her and her friends without their knowledge—then surely Hazel had the right to encroach on it a little too.

She opened up one of her parents’ OS maps of the region, which she’d brought upstairs. It showed a lot more detail than Google Maps. Hill contours and rock outcrops were marked, and even some ruined remains. Pencil in hand, Google Maps open on her laptop, and her brow furrowing with concentration, Hazel flipped the book open to her next sticky note.

One way or another, she was going Hogwarts hunting.


End file.
